


Longing

by xAshes (Musicians_Lyre)



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Any warning I missed let me know, Author has lost direction within this (lol), Avalanche as a vigilante squad, Child Soldiers, Deepground as the hidden SOLDIER, Despite planning it’s become a mess, Everyone who is not Hojo are mellowed down, F/F, Genesis Rhapsodos seems to be a warning, I should mention romance is very little, I should’ve known this would have a plot, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It’s rather soft, JENOVA is a drug in this one, Life stream is not emphasized much, M/M, Might lower rating as it’s not as graphic as I assumed, Multi, Slow Build Relationships, a mess with happy endings all around, depressive episodes, haven’t tagged one ship since spoiler, it started off as a joke, it was unintentional as it was intentional, mentions of self harm and body dysmorphia, romance is hard to write.., since the five are very sweet, updates every Saturday unless spoken otherwise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 150,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25598983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musicians_Lyre/pseuds/xAshes
Summary: “Sephiroth wasn’t really sure what life was supposed to be.  Mere existence, missions, doing the bidding of others, pigeon-holing attention of those of lower ranks, a living sacrifice for the greater good, the executioner of souls that tested the superior?  Is that all there was?He has two friends who don’t exactly tell him that.  They are colourful, beautiful, loving, and pretty bothersome due to his lack of understanding, giving the silver-haired man another perspective of the world around them.  It was not just missions, blood and reports, it had flowers, the sun’s rays, capricious humans, the sea that never seemed to end..They gave him something to hold so close to his heart, he never wanted those flames to dim.”--Welcome to ShinRa Military Academy!This is kind of a reincarnation/alternate universe fic, not a time travel one. It started it as a humour-filled chat fic, but it didn’t work too well. It’s relatively serious, but not exactly canonical.  Canon is shown only in hints and slight overlaps.Previously and temporarily titled, “My friends”.
Relationships: Angeal Hewley/Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth, Banorashipping - Relationship, Genesis Rhapsodos/Cloud Strife, OT5 - Relationship, Vincent Valentine & Sephiroth, Zack Fair/Angeal Hewley/Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Comments: 20
Kudos: 50





	1. Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Updated A/N: It’s an OT5 one in ShinRa Academy. It wasn't the initial plan, but it does work well. Starts with Strifesodos.  
> The First Trio are the Senpai/Upperclassmen to Zack, Kunsel and Cloud. Since it’s a Military thing, they’re all of age. It’s high school, then college levels and the choice of enlistment or not.  
> Those who don’t enlist can be part of the staff, or the agents to take care of the minors of the Academy.
> 
> ShinRa is a double agent facility, setting up students to fight for the public, so pretty much SOLDIER. They do have dealings with JENOVA, but it’s kinda vague, like a sort of drug injection for the students to become stronger. 
> 
> As the summary says, it’s a reincarnation story. They get bits and bobs of their game lives. 
> 
> I’ve watched Crisis Core, but pardon my characterization. It does not match much to the canon material. I absolutely adore how the authors here write them, so they're my inspiration for this.
> 
> It’s a bit of a mess. Growing to be not a terrible mess, though.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud's perspective. How it all begins!.  
> Warning? It's still very soft. :x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I grew very soft about the OT5 after reading some of their stories, they’re written with such love..
> 
> Also, there is going to be no explicit smut.. I’m rather uncomfortable with writing it, sometimes even reading it. There is implied, the reason why they are all of age.
> 
> Mostly Strifesodos in this chapter since that’s where it begins. Clack is platonic in this moment.
> 
> Minor edits only being made around because gee, I do need to check before posting.

**\--**

The blond boy could recall the first time he had acquainted with his new friends. His older step-brother was President of the Squad, the one who had the last word for everything, much to the younger’s irritation. He didn’t mind him being part of his family, but boy, there were times when he was just a pain. 

But, enough of his brother as this was not what circled around his memory. His brother led to another friend who was forcibly entered, that he was going to share with us later. His first friend who was not the sweet puppy Zack was the one he met when he goofed up on one of his materia lessons and was moping about how silly of a mistake it was. Almost everyone in the class got it right. Zack even stated that it was a rather simple spell, and he had to make a miscalculation on the amount of power it needed to ignite it. While practicing after school to get it right, there came in.. that boy.

The infamous professional materia user, everyone knew his penchant for those spells of whatever kind: Genesis Rhapsodos. Cloud didn’t want to admit it out loud at that time, but man, was that teen gorgeous up front. It was better than those photos that didn’t capture his beauty as well as reality did. No wonder that same haughty teen complained often about as Cloud had seen a couple of times when they marched through the same hallway.

The teen was simply observing him from a distance, but it had the poor blond so distracted, he couldn’t concentrate on anything. Forgetting how to harness materia was as bad as forgetting his own name. When those cerulean eyes glazed away from him, he was able to finally gather his bearings and cast the spell, yet still couldn’t seem to get it right.

It was then the red-haired boy approached him with a small snicker. 

“Do you swing your sword with force, or you become one with it?” was his question, with a tone that spoke nothing but teases, haughty . It poured embarrassment down the younger’s spine. Cloud turned his attention to him, he held his breath as they were merely inches apart. The latter reached for the materia.

“Observe, kid.” The crimson materia was taken from his hand before it nestled into crimson gloves and the younger boy couldn’t believe how he cast the spell without even trying. Blazes of flame erupted from the materia, and the teen’s posture as relaxed as taking a fresh stroll in the park. 

Becoming one with the materia, connecting to it.. this teen must’ve known it all, practiced till he shamed all instructors of the field.

“You don’t force a little kid to obey you, do you?” a hint of a scoff before it softened. That demure touch that framed the auburn-haired boy was something the blond didn’t imagine possible. There was not a single student who could vouch for this teen having a good side, they often mentioned how scary he was, how close he was to casting a spell to burn them out of their wits if they leered at him wrongly.

But here…

How the little red orb was held with care, like a parent tending to a wounded child, or an expert knowing how to carve the most delicate glassware. This was not someone who was skilled due to the necessity of the task, but one who understood the materia, loved it for how well it carried itself out. 

The smile he offered to the little piece held protectively in his hands had his heart skip a beat. Never thought he’d ever wish to be a ball of magic as he did now, earning that grace of a smile.

It was hilarious. 

“You befriend them. You hear what they want and give it to them. You’ll see how they will return the favour when you ask.” As he advised, he returned the little orb to the younger student and with his fingers, folded the boy’s hands around the red materia.

As Cloud met his eyes, the upperclassmen quirked a thin, amused brow, sneer growing as he gazed down without lowering his face. There went that caring smile he bestowed upon the suddenly blessed materia and back was his Captain of the Drama Club sneer, that face that earned him the condescending title. 

“Surely, you’d know.”

Cloud blinked a couple of times before letting it sink, nodding rapidly.

“Good, now show me a good fire.”

When the upperclassman, Genesis, removed his fingers with the grace of strokes fleeting as feathers, Cloud felt his presence stepping away from him, eyes watching him as he gave the spell another try with the thought of holding a child’s hand, lifting the little girl a friend had, so tiny and tender. He recalled the thought of her giggling face, dimples showing on her cute, chubby cheeks as he twirled her in slow motions and running like an aeroplane. 

Running comforting fingers around the materia, he closed his eyes, accepting the warmth of the flames that was channeling through him. As it coursed through him, he found it was just as Genesis instructed. It was like petting a child, a shy yet energetic one when befriended. 

It was then he released a proper fire spell.

He heard applause from the other boy, smiling small as he began to recite. 

“ _There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, healer of the worlds.”_

And Cloud blinked a couple of times, trying to recognize where it came from. It was very familiar, so close to home, but knowing he hadn’t read many poems that their society had to offer, he figured he should try the guessing game.

“That’s from Loveless, isn’t it?”

And the wider smile he received was all worth it. Now he could find intrigue in those clear cerulean eyes that watched him like a project, now was seeing a human, a potential friend in the young blond boy.

“The one and only.” How affectionately he responded, words so soft and laced with honey, sweet and supple, Cloud could tell he loved that play dearly. That was saying he has yet to see his many commentaries upon it. “Your name, boy?”

“Cloud Strife, Mr. Rhapsodos.”

“Tell me, what makes you have such a dull name?”

The blond raised a brow. Was that an insult of sorts?

“Cloud Strife.. a future full of trouble, your vision is fogged and filled with misery and woe, hardships..” he elaborated, reaching closer, boots clinking as making small taps formed on the ground on contact. Finally, the blond has gotten the red-haired teen to gaze fully at him, not looking down upon him. 

“My mum’s named Claudia, guess that’s where my name comes in.”

He received a huff from the older teen. “Such a simple reason.”

“Your parents named you Genesis, they must’ve thought of the _birth_ of something beautiful.” Cloud dipped his head, avoiding the red-haired fellow’s eyes, ashamed that he almost agreed that it was a silly reason to be named something so… bothersome.

“Mm.. I think they thought of the beginning of the end with me,” the fellow teen ran a couple of fingers along his chin, eyeing the ceiling in contemplation. The two were mere strangers and yet, it seemed alright to share information of their immediate family. “I was named before they got me.”

“That would mean…?” the blond’s head shot up to glance at him once more, eyes wide and almost trembling. The boy was an unwanted child, this rich, well-off and extremely knowledgeable boy.. unloved? Grew up in a home without affection and care? Who would’ve imagined with the way he carried the Rhapsodos name, raising it higher and higher till all bowed in respect.

Who knew this respectable and all-loved teen was in a boat similar to his own? The possibility of that never came to him.

“Don’t go feeling sorry for me, little twerp.” To add a little bite, he flicked the boy’s forehead with a smile.

“Right…”

With a laugh, the red-haired teen turned on his heel, making his way out of the large room. Gazing at the floor, he snickered, “get that better grade, and I’ll show you something cool, that is…” lifting his head just a bit, he gave Cloud a side-long glance, “if you pique my interest.”

As Cloud saluted, Genesis raised a hand.

“Till then, Cloud.”

Since then, it may have been silly, but Cloud had put a little extra effort into his materia practice along with sword training that he had with Zack. If there was a chance to see the strangely pretty red-haired teen, he would make every effort possible.

And fate was kind to him. Perhaps, Genesis’ recital about him being the beloved of the goddess was true. He met the red-haired teen once again, just a couple of weeks after his first goof in materia training. This time, it wasn’t during a goof up, but during a training session with Zack. 

Not only did he meet that beautiful teen, but he’s seen his best friends along with it. Talk about luck!

The sound of metal clanged with another as the two younger students clashed blades. With the big, wide and friendly smile that his slightly upperclassmen Zack had, it was difficult for Cloud to feel the anger of a soldier in combat with his biggest opponent. Zack was nothing of an opponent, he was the bestest friend he could ever ask for! It was too hard to try and picture him as an elite in combat for he couldn’t shake off the familiarity. 

If he wore a helmet as his friend Kunsel did, it would’ve been much easier. If he was as sniggering and bothersome as his older brother Rufus, he would’ve swung his blade and nearly murder the boy, but since it was Zack, sweet, soft, silly Zack, the boy he wished was his big brother he could confide everything to, the wingman if he needed it, the largest helping hand he’d ever received… he couldn’t even try and scratch him. 

“C’mon Cloudy-sky, attack like you mean it!” the boy encouraged with that cutely high and enthusiastic voice of his, and Cloud resisted a snicker. The two jumped back to ready for another strike.

“How can I? All I see is a dog wagging his tail!”

As he landed on the ground, he broke into a sprint, eyelids fluttering to shield his eyes from the sight of his cute friend in favour of imagining a battlefield. A warzone full of rubble and ash, soldiers fallen to the ground bleeding their bodies out, weeping in pain as the weapons sliced a little too deep, howls of pain as their lives flew before them, with the young cadet Cloud remaining, standing with his blade brandished, rusting from the corners and ever so sharp, facing against the enigma who caused such disaster to his people.

A nightmare. The figment of his own mind that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. 

Clenching his teeth, he dashed to this obsidian nightmare, broadsword strong in his arms as he made a cut from the bottom up before sliding up into a flurry of slashes, each picking up in speed and with effort to block each opening. One after another, he kept going until the inky being was decimated. He could feel his blade’s slices not making the incision he wanted, but the force in his opponent’s defence waned, and that told enough of success.

“Whoa whoa! Now that’s some slashing, Cloud!”

But at the sound of that yell, all focus he had on being in the battlegrounds was lost and Cloud’s eyes shot open with the innocence of a child. At this, his friend let out a laugh, posture relaxing as Cloud lowered his blade as if it was too heavy. Sweat rolled down his brows as he continued to stare at Zack who took a good couple of breaths to steady himself from his onslaught. Surprisingly unharmed, but the notes of struggle were evident. 

Zack had to jump away a couple of times, let Cloud attack the air for he couldn’t stop or parry each blow. It was quite frightening, but amazing. 

It earned the cease of three pairs of footsteps, with one of them clapping their hands in applause, and having the two training raise their heads in surprise.

To Cloud’s surprise, it was Genesis, and he brought friends along! How he didn’t sense the three while he was practicing with Zack was beyond him. Those three now standing idly had presences so strong, it was too difficult to ignore. They beckoned to pay attention and drop everything else by simply being there.

And yet…

“What a performance.” The auburn-haired boy chortled as he clapped in mock applause, his tone haughty and yet, unmalicious. He was truly impressed!

“Indeed, you both have a great show of promise.” The tall, raven-haired one supplied with a smile that had Cloud be put at ease.

It was kind as a father who watched his son grow into a respectable gentleman after all their effort has been expended. He resembled Zack in almost every way, just mature. He could see where the younger raven-haired boy drew inspiration from, what sword he called to his liking, his hairstyle and down to the mannerisms.

The silver-haired man gave a small nod in approval, pale features almost hiding a smile due to the abundance of lovely silver strands. 

“Thanks ‘Geal!” Zack called back, smile bright and radiant as a golden retriever. Honestly, Cloud is going to need some sunglasses to bear with that brilliant light called his friend and upperclassman. 

It was when the boys were placing their weapons back into the rack of blades and other tools when the auburn-haired teen took a couple of steps forward, smile small but not less affectionate.

“Little Cloud, we meet again.”

And Cloud couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes and going, “barely littler than you, Mr. Rhapsodos, but yes, we do.”

And the pair of eyes that he earnt for it had him wondering if he was stretching a little too far, being a little too frank with the one who was rumoured to be a volatile as a tea pot on a burning stove, screaming steam and wishing to be removed before it burns into nothingness. Even the green-eyed teen landed a glance at him, almost apprehensive. 

But Genesis must’ve been in a good mood, for he only let out a laugh, gloved hand extending only to ruffle blond locks.

“Cheeky runt.”

At that, the others relaxed. Cloud wondered if Genesis had a little thing against being the shortest in his friend group. He wasn’t far too short, but enough to be at the silver-haired teen’s shoulders and the raven-haired one’s elbow. That was saying the heels helped him be of similar standing. Then again.. all of their boots added to their ridiculous heights.

Well, at least he was taller than Cloud even without those heels.

When the red-haired teen took in a long breath, the blond found the older raven-haired teen grumble.

“If you’re going to quote Loveless, we’re leaving.”

Shot. Down.

And Cloud was able to see the second Genesis’ little smile crumbled into a face of mock horror, as if he was playing the character who had just been told the dirtiest little secret, gaping and resting a hand on his chest.

“ _Angeal!_ ”

Zack put their weapons back before murmuring to Cloud, “only Geal and Seph can really do that without being burnt, let me tell you that.”

“He didn’t burn me when he showed me how to use materia..” and with how casually Cloud answered back, he missed the big flinch from his friend, as well as the raise of a brow by Angeal. Sephiroth remained placid, almost waiting for a cue to step in, and this moment suited it.

“He showed you how to use materia?” his deep baritone was soft, almost expressionless yet full of an innocent curiosity that Cloud couldn’t understand. Casting a glance at the red head to wait for his answer, he returned to the silver-haired teen when there was no such happening. Not with the way Genesis was now pouting, eyes closed but nowhere close to harming anyone.

“Yeah.. I messed up my assignment, so Mr. Rhapsodos showed me how to correctly perform it.”

At this, Sephiroth’s beautiful green eyes widened slightly with intrigue, and Genesis seemed to get out of his reverie of sulking in favour for shaking his head and smiling again.

“Come off it, Strife. Just call me Genesis,” he waved his hand at his friends, “you don’t call them Mr. Crescent or Mr. Hewley, do ye?”

Cloud pursed his lips.

“Gen, it’s only respectful that he does.” And he saw the way those pure green eyes were full of warmth when it hovered to the auburn boy, if his face didn’t speak much of anything, those eyes were. With Cloud, it was the glance of a curious stranger, the kind of stiff politeness he offered when addressing others that meant nothing to him, but with the two friends, the intensity deepened with a kindness that wasn’t formal. 

It was free, longing and loving.

“But he’s my friend, Seph! I don’t want him going all stiff like you.”

“We’re friends?” ah, why oh why was it he who often asked the most stupid of questions… Cloud wanted to rip all the spikes off his head and impale himself with it.

“Isn’t that why you run your mouth?” that accusatory brow from Genesis had him shrink to himself, smiling sheepishly.

“I thought it’s because you make people want to spit profanities.” 

Cloud turned to Zack for help when he saw Genesis face Sephiroth with a glare, fists clenching. Thankfully, the quieter Angeal decided to pitch in.

“Cloud, Zack’s in my fencing team. Would you like to join us?” 

“Yeah Cloud! You should join us, with that mad skill of yours, you could really be a great defender of the Academy!” when Zack began boasting about how well he could swing his sword and cause a rip in the wind, Cloud hid his face with his hair, facing the ground to avoid showing the group that he was blushing.

It caught the attention of the red-haired teen, sneering as he chided his friend.

“ _Share, dear Geal._ He should join my drama club. You already have that damned puppy in your squad.”

Shaking the flattery off his brow, Cloud’s eyes met Sephiroth’s who kept his gaze at his friends, avoidant of the two underclassmen. Despite the words spoken about Sephiroth’s confident work, his charisma displaying to its full length when conducting student assemblies, he seemed a tad shy when he wasn’t preparing any work.

It had Cloud smiling unconsciously. Somehow, in some strange intrinsic way, the three upperclassmen seemed very understanding, he found himself connecting to them without knowing what the cause was. It was difficult to be around people who oozed with confidence and treaded without a hint of care in the world, without looking back to see if anyone was following them, or if they were safe. 

Even Genesis, who was rumoured to be both volatile and condescending appeared as a human who knew his worth. He wasn’t haughty even when he was one of the rare few who had the riches of the world, able to flaunt his wealth, snap his fingers and have the entire school board obey him for his father financed the whole thing.

Angeal, they both knew to be a humble person, except Cloud didn’t think it was to the extent that he kept his own prowess hidden in the shadows. The students and faculty respected him, only enough to not bother him. They didn’t help him with his club activities or any of the sort. In fact, he didn’t even know there was a fencing club until he mentioned it. Had he known, he would’ve made a run for it and sign his name ten times for him to see, for him to choose him as a member. 

“I’m not a good actor…”

Just that was enough for the red-haired boy to return to his pout, eyes lowering with a huff.

“Alright, join Geal’s puny little club, but you’ll see what you’re missing out on.”

It appeared that Sephiroth had an autopilot switch on and responded whenever Genesis spoke. Cloud watched the two, blue irises swinging between them as a pendulum.

“Miss out on what? All you do is discuss Loveless and its many stanzas.”

“We speak of important people! Important, you hear? Oh wait, you don’t even care for art.”

“I care for the art of swordplay, Gen. Not the moping of some guy in his world of fantasies.”

“ _Expression_ , Sephiroth. Swords can’t get everything out of your system.”

At that, Sephiroth blinked owlishly, before making his comeback.

“But.. we excrete to get it ‘out of our system’.”

And the grimace he got was probably worth millions of gil. It was glorious.

“Goddess, not _that_ kind! Emotional expression, food for the heart.”

“Like blood?”

“Oh, scratch that. Food for the soul, for the soul!”

Coming to a pause, there came a small smile finding its way to Sephiroth’s lips.

“I understand what you mean,” when Genesis raised his brows once more, he continued, “you and Angeal are that for me. Happiness.. the food for the soul.”

The sight of the red-haired teen losing all sense of speech was strangely satisfying. How he broke into a small giggle, closing his eyes, irritation loosening into tender dip as he did when cradling the materia when he showed the younger boy how to properly cast the spell.. it was oddly lovely.

A kind of expression Cloud wanted to see more of.

“You’re getting soppy on me now, Seph,” then those cerulean eyes focused onto him, “see, Cloud here understands the beauty of Loveless and delicate prose.”

“Does he now?” Green eyes zeroed in as well as Genesis put him on the spot.

All Cloud could say or do was a silly, “uhhh”.

“But enough about that, I’m glad we’ve met again.” There that smile was again, so kind and yet so cruel.. did he know how Sephiroth couldn’t stop gazing upon it?

It was a stupid question to ask if the three were friends. That much was obvious, they stood so close, strangers would’ve had a couple of meters away from one whose sword reached so far, and one who would reduce you to ashes if he found you disgusting, and one…

And one whose sturdy features poured shivers down your spine if misunderstood.

“You know Sephiroth,” he waved in his direction, and to his right to the other, “and Angeal. I know that’s Zack unfair, the lost puppy.”

“He is..” Sephiroth goofily asked for an elaboration.

“He’s Cloud Strife.”

“Do you know him well that you’ve been helping him out with materia practice?” Angeal raised a curious brow, but no less friendly than before. 

Genesis shook his head. “Coincidence, really. A happy one, that is to say.”

“For you to take interest in a young student is something, Gen. What did he do to impress you?”

“You said it yourself, ‘Geal. He shows promise,” that matter of fact tone had both Cloud and Angeal blinking at him, then smiled when Genesis’ cheekiness returned with, “and besides, he’s cuter than the puppy.”

“We’re overwhelming him with all this.” Sephiroth interjected, eyes flicking to the blond and his friend before returning up. 

“Then let’s invite them for a little coffee instead of blabbering in ‘Geal’s favourite room.”

Genesis extended his hands as if he was finding himself surrounded by idiots, turning on his heel. Angeal nodded at the two underclassmen.

“It is a good idea, we were on our way to get a cuppa, come along if you feel comfortable to.”

Zack and Cloud shared a glance before nodding with a smile. It wasn’t everyday he would be around two Captains of clubs and the ever so busy Secretary of the Student Council. Cloud would want to have every minute he could take. 

“Of course, if you don’t mind.”

Sephiroth once again droned automatically, “we don’t mind.”

“Yeah, Seph’s right. We like the confidence, it’s easier to have around than stammering messes.” Angeal followed Genesis who went a couple of steps ahead before stopping. “It’s good to get to know the future students that will succeed us.”

And the amazement Cloud felt once again birthed in full force. He was with three of the most popular students of the Academy, and they were inviting he and Zack for a little lunch together. _Talk. About. Awesome!_

They were so friendly, it felt like a dream. Even _the_ Sephiroth with his rather distant nature was welcoming him as much as he could humanly possible. What was better than that?

“Better be quick or we’ll change our minds.” Genesis added the last note with a snicker.

And Cloud didn’t need a second to decide. He ran with them. If their wings were spread for him and Zack to step into, he was not going to hesitate and miss his chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates might be weekly, bi-weekly, depends on how much is in. Chapter 3 is half done, but I want it to match my schedule with the fact that I post drawings on my Twitter account every Saturday, so..
> 
> Twitter is @AmareinMortis, same for Tumblr, come and discuss whatever you'd like to, or see funny doodles.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this story~


	2. Grasping for what's in reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud's perspective once more. Very soft and with a bit of humour. (Present time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so a couple of things..  
> \- I have now watched most scenes of Crisis Core, and I didn’t realize how fast-paced everything is. It screams prelude to tragedy.  
> \- I can safely say that the rating might change a little, not for sexual themes (this stays non-graphic), but because I tend to write some things that are not the easiest to read, and some future violence. We move from Cloud’s perspective to Sephiroth’s for chapters 4 and 5, and it’s a different lifestyle altogether. (Genesis’ chapters get kind of hard as well.)  
> Story writing is so much fun. It is taking over my life once again after that month and a half repulsion I had.
> 
> Anywho, without further ado.. Happy reading.

\--

That day when they sat around a bench outside under the clouds, protected by the shades of the Academy walls, the blond realized that the three friends were ending their third year of studies and were entering the college level of the Academy. That meant he was two years before them, and a year before his raven-haired friend. 

  
It must’ve been a breeze for the three to get around their classes if they have been friends for a long time. Cloud could feel their familiarity stem for a very long time, as if they were born beside each other, so close and tight-knit, nothing could come between their little sphere. 

  
Still, to see Sephiroth comfortable in his surroundings was something else. Cloud often watched the upperclassman trudge through the halls with a posture so straight and tall, there would be no student reaching his level or find his gaze upon them. A wall of passivity, unmoving. If his green eyes did land on them, it wasn’t to them but somewhere deep inside of himself, thinking, pondering, wondering, deducing. It was as if he wasn’t even there with them when he glanced at the other students.

  
If they spoke to him, he gave a stiff nod and a turn of his heel and remembering a task he had left somewhere they couldn’t follow. Even with Cloud today, before Genesis told him he was a friend and something worth paying attention to, he didn’t find importance in him. It was that peer that just acknowledged there was a living being in front of him, but not one with conscience, with something worthy to put onto the table.

Yet.. every time Cloud caught him focusing on Genesis or Angeal, it was as if that zoned out green brightened up and were so alert, he watched every blink, every wave of a finger, the breath that entered and left their lungs, the click of Genesis’ tongue, the smile that came to Angeal’s stern face as he made a quip. When their eyes, baby blue as faint as the fleeing sky met his, Cloud could’ve sworn the green lights danced within the iris. 

There was no other way to put it. Sephiroth gazed upon his friends as they were the most precious beings on their world. 

It was fascinating to see it in the man who expressed nothing yet everything all at once. One minute it was difficult to see anything in those listless eyes of deep green, and the next, it was so clear. It struck into all of his underclassman’s heartstrings.

He wanted to understand him, provide assistance to have him express it properly without leaving it to shy glances. Who knew what was happening in the heart of the silver-haired man each time the two weren’t focusing on him.

_Did he die each time?_

And Cloud’s seen Genesis dart his attention away, even known how he wasn’t uncomfortable with letting his fingers roam when he was interested in someone. No, he didn’t touch anywhere he couldn’t, but the ruffles to his head when they were in the training room told enough of it, the small brushes of his feather-light fingers on the stiff palm of Sephiroth in this current moment, that comforting caress each time he appeared so lost, so dissociated from the world…

Cloud wondered if Genesis knew how much Sephiroth needed that reassurance that he was still there, still alive, still needed and still their friend. The reminder that he was not just some placebo to elevate his already insanely high status, a cushion to fall upon, a stair for a pedestal, nor a scapegoat when he makes a goof-up. 

But with the way he smiled, teeth bearing and eyes gleaming as the sun’s rays that tried to shine down in the cloud filled sky, Genesis and Angeal both treasured their friend, oddities aside. In a cosmic sort of way, all of them were pretty darn odd, so it was alright to have one as supposedly alien as Sephiroth.

With them, he was no stranger, no existence too awkward to understand, but another one of them. 

Cloud found himself smiling, warmth filling his veins at the thought of the three not in a big fight due to their fanclubs clashing, in fact, even their fans came to hold hands together at the sight of their admired one smiling with each other. There was unity that is commonly impossible to form when there were vices as envy, the need to be better, competition, and the need to topple one over.

He couldn’t quite speak for Genesis nor Angeal if their relationship was cordial as Sephiroth’s were, but it was noticeable they were close by how Sephiroth didn’t put walls around them, didn’t rank them as one more important than another, it was equality he sought, and for now, it seemed to be returned by the two. 

At least, from Angeal who never allowed Sephiroth to feel left out. Each time there was a little bout of silence by the silver-haired teen, the raven-haired teen would ask him a question or for exposition to have him step in and pinch his two cents that were held so close within curled fingers pressed to one another. 

Familiarity raced through his mind. 

Where has he seen this kind of dynamic so clearly.. vividly?

Sephiroth’s sort of stiff and quiet speech that mixed with deep, authoritative and strong voice, posture so straight yet so hesitant, unreaching, it made Genesis appear as the calm, collected one who welcomed all and none to his calling. Then it occurred to Cloud all at once, that same moment Sephiroth’s eyes met his and he gave a small smile, running his fingers on the small, metallic spoon to stir the contents in the mug on the table.

He was staring into a mirror.

Sephiroth was in a boat similar to his own, while their physicality begged to differ, they were no less the same. The same page of a book, the back of a hand. Sephiroth’s huddled and reserved nature was just the flipside of a coin to his own, the need to observe before letting words roll on his tongue and out his lips, study the atmosphere to see what fits where, it was all the identical. His friend who opened his arms to let him in, words unnecessary, just as his two friends who, in their own way, pulled him into their embrace so kind and almost intimate.

They were a lot alike.

Feeling a gaze upon him as he smiled back to Sephiroth as he broke a biscuit on his plate, courteously given to each friend seated by the raven-haired upperclassman along with their drinks of their choice. Cloud chose a hot chocolate, Sephiroth and Genesis green tea, and Angeal and Zack mugs of coffee. He considered having a mocha, but hot chocolate was the final word as he couldn’t make up his mind on the spot upon being queried. The biscuits were a soft chocolate chip, baked by Angeal himself and placed at the center, positioned like a mountain that kept growing smaller as a biscuit was swiped. The one who was enjoying them the most was the sweet Zack, while Genesis praised the work into it, but didn’t bother having any be eaten in favour of snapping them and sort of playing with the sweets, aligning each piece to the near rims of the plate, and Sephiroth didn’t seem to notice it at all.

Cloud was in the middle of eating his second biscuit when he was meeting Sephiroth’s kind gaze, peripherals revealing that the red-haired teen who sat in the middle of the two upperclassmen was staring, eyes calm with a smile gentle, admiring the two as they interacted with their eyes alone. Those fingers not leaving Sephiroth’s as it birthed life into his pale body. 

They were coming to a mutual understanding that the world was no place for them, and yet, there was a place for them, and it was created with the help of these three people. They were not alone, they were not the only ones who struggled, but they were the only ones who didn’t hesitate to hold those hands that laid outstretched, who didn’t have to change themselves and become something they were not in order to achieve it. 

Zack and Angeal were the only two who were sharing verbal words, with the two fair haired ones breaking out of their trance, returning to what they had on their plate. Sephiroth had to give his attention to a student who came up to their table, and Cloud watched the black-haired male that stood by whisper something to him, both pointing to the file that was in his hand. Then he excused himself, rushing back into the building without another word. 

For the need to see how his heart sinking compared to how Genesis and Angeal felt, he peeked up in curiosity. As he thought, Genesis was tapping the table with his right index finger, resisting a deep sigh but clearly displaying his dismay, while Angeal wasn’t any happier, brows furrowed with his words caught in his throat, judging by how his breath came in the same pace as it did when thinking. He placated himself with a sip of his coffee.

The hand on Sephiroth’s shifted as if giving him permission to leave, disappointment evident in the tightening of his palm, fingers begging to return. 

Sephiroth remained on the corner of the bench, appearing to be in contemplation, gaze distant and lingering on the table as if it would speak or push him, his lips finally parting after a pregnant silence before letting it simply stay slightly open as the red-haired male sifted through the quiet atmosphere, not forcefully as he waited for Sephiroth’s voice to resound to no avail.

“President or not, Rufus’ a wanker.”

And the loosely put complaint that was so well placed in the best time possible earnt a low snicker by the silver-haired teen, and a reluctant nod by his raven-haired friend. Both in agreement of it. 

“He does overwork you, Seph. Try not to let him take all your time.”

Sephiroth’s formality shrunk into a soft smile as he faced Angeal.

“I’m fine, Angeal. It was just something for tomorrow. We’re arranging the graduation process for some of us, so we have to make the preparations necessary.”

“You guys are going to be moving into the higher stage, right?” Cloud added a query, unsure of how it would go if they were in a boarding school. They didn’t have to move buildings, did they? This wasn’t the first and last time he would be able to do this, right? Right…?

“In four months’ time, yes.” Sephiroth answered with a nod, eyeing the friends beside him. 

“Yeah, that means having the potential to enlist in the military,” Genesis answered with a lazy flick of his right hand, lifting it in a steady pace and removing non-existent crumbs off the tips, “but that’s just a pretty little name. Ranks, positions, authority all the like. We pretty much lose all that we have, crumbling to dust and..”

Gazing at Sephiroth, he slipped a biscuit onto his cleared plate with the hand closest, “we become puppets to the ones who order us around to do their bidding. We’re slaves to freedom of others, to success or peril.”

“It’s not that cryptic.. is it, Angeal?” Zack shivered at the thought of such, and Cloud could understand.

While he flowered it with imagery, it all came down to being restrained, chained down like a dog to a stronger power. There was no way such compelling figures as Genesis, Angeal and Sephiroth were going to become mindless puppets, were they? Their lives were so much more, they could provide so much to this bleak world that they poured their beautiful lives into.  
Surely, it wouldn’t be that bad.. would it?

Staring onto his hands on his lap, Angeal answered, “I would hope, but I can’t say Gen doesn’t have a point.”

“It can’t be. You can’t be serious..” His best friend stiffened, shoulders hunching and clenching his fists hard enough to hear the crackle of the leather from his gloves tighten. They couldn’t raise students and hold their name with such power and pride if all they do is discard those who elevate them into the gallows once used up. They couldn’t…

Feeling the same dread as Zack did, Cloud’s inquiry came before he could bite his lips in silence.

“Do you… have to enlist?”

Perhaps, this was a time where he should learn not to ask a question he didn’t want an answer for.

“Strife..” Genesis’ smile was tight-lipped, wan and wry, auburn-lashes veiling his eyes as a butterfly wing. “This is a military school. We’ve been training so much along with our academics; shouldn’t it make sense that we enlist?”

“Yes, but..” there could be a different way to use the power they’ve been harnessing. Without bloodshed, without having to experience loss. It tightened the walls of his heart as if a phantom was squeezing all blood out of it. “Surely, they are not here to bring you pain.. despair.”

“No wonder you were named such.”

Deep blue met the faint cerulean, finding nothing but compassionate concern.

“You mull over the smallest of things. So, what if we enlist? We serve our country, we save lives by doing minimal damage, we return the favour for the bone they gave us, what’s more..” as his gaze slid to the ground, the blond found a newfound gleam in them. “We’ll become.. _heroes_.”

“Heroes?”

_But you all are enough of heroes for me, shouldn’t that be enough?_

“Yes.” His smile loosened, and Cloud found that Genesis’ crimson gloved hands both followed their way to lay a caress on both his friend’s arms, one reaching to be enveloped in the hand of the silver-haired teen, and the other in the same motion, in the hand of the raven-haired one. “We’ll become heroes. Saviours.. through the gift of the goddess.”

“You don’t have to enlist to be a hero.” He found himself murmuring, suddenly aware of how he slapped Genesis’ optimistic faith into the dustbin. It was obvious that he was not eager to throw his life for another, and here he was, chiding him for it. 

“I know, but we were born to be in a battlefield.”

“And we would be happy to serve our people with honour.” Angeal added, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath.

It was then the tense, serious mood that Genesis was in snapped, flew with the breeze that past them by.

“Dude, if you stop me from quoting Loveless, you should stop him from droning on about ‘honour’!” he pointed with thumb, releasing his hands from the two. Sephiroth hid a snicker and Angeal pressed his lips to a side.

“At least, I don’t bash it into people’s heads.. I do it honourably.”

“There you go again! I don’t bash it either, I quite eloquently read it for you to understand.” Cloud watched Genesis inch away from Angeal to yell at him, all emotion from the previous minute gone and replaced with this one that had him resisting a laugh. He accidently thickened the clouds in the sky, and now the raven-haired one was trying to allow the puffs to sail in peace. “Your pup even says it everywhere.”

In honour, as he put it. 

“I have to admit, I’ve never seen a day where Angeal has not said ‘honour’ at least three times.” Sephiroth supplied, cheeks slightly flushed due to laughing. 

“But at least it’s something useful, unlike those poems.” Angeal rose to the challenge, now sneering the same as Genesis who clenched his fists for another time in one day.

“Honour is just a pretty little word, Loveless is a lifestyle, our lives!”

“Loveless is merely a play, honour is the way of our lives.” He corrected, shaking his head. Funny enough, Cloud saw that the two friends hadn’t tried letting Genesis’ hands stray away from theirs. At this moment, even as the auburn-haired male shifted on his seat, his arm was still pulled to Angeal’s, hands secure by his friend.

“Loveless is kinda dreary, if you’d ask me.” Zack muttered, unsure if he should add to it. Cloud knew he was still shaken up about the thought of losing Angeal, leading their own lives to nothing different than suicide. Wanting to see the boy brighten up once more, he let his hand slip down the table, on the bend of Zack’s knee, rubbing circles upon it.

Earning a little smile from him was the reward, but reassurance from the raven-haired fellow was a dismissal of his touch.

“Uncultured swines.. Strife, you don’t agree with them, do you?”

And oh gosh, so much for wanting to be the observer. Genesis was really holding it against him for not immediately joining his club, was he? What was with him and adding him to every discussion about Loveless? Oh wait, he too, harbours an interest for the same of intricate poems. It was one that had Cloud in the deep mosses of imagination, and in the gallows of reality all at once.

He couldn’t deny discovering a connection between the three, but fear welled in him at the thought of the latter half of the Acts.

Genesis appreciated truth over all else, so that was what he was going to deliver.

“I do agree, but it also scares me. If taken literally.. we’re going to lose the three of you.” Shifting his gaze away, his fingers curled over itself as he tightened his grasp around it, having shifted away from his friend. Just as a reader would flip a leaflet to read what happens next, the tone of their conversation took another shift back into the terse, concentrated and fearsome aspect of it. He didn’t know them a lot by personality, but he knew enough of their achievements, the work they have done to make this Academy what it is, and now they were going to be…

He was going to lose them within these couple of months to enlistment. What if..

“ _My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honour remains._ ” The wry smile returned to him, eyelids protectively lowering, with cerulean eyes peeking slightly out of auburn-lashes as he kept a level gaze at Cloud. “What Act, Strife?”

“Huh?” he was snapped once again out of the freight train he strapped himself into. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ll give you a hint because you were worried about us,” his smile was more amused than it was compassionate, more interested in the prose of their lives than the aspect of actually giving their lives away. “Subtract one from us.”

“Four?” wait, what was he guessing again?

“Exactly, you really do pay attention,” alright, good answer it appeared to be, “could you pass me your PHS?”

“Whoa there Gen, you can’t just take people’s PHS just like that!” “Confidential information surrounds it.” Zack chided with Angeal backing him up. Cloud blinked a couple of times, taking a peek at the time before shrugging his shoulders, fishing for his PHS in his blazer pocket. 

“Here.”

“Cloud!” the two raven heads shouted.

“What do you guys think I’ll do? Look through everything? I don’t have time for that..” Genesis scoffed, sifting his hands away from his friends to grasp the silver device with a small smile, “I’m adding my number, so he won’t leave me alone when these two do.”

Cloud’s eyes widened at this, knowing what was coming next. Sephiroth would take notice of those folly words.

“We’ve left you alone..?” Oh, the heartbreak in the silver-haired teen’s tone had Cloud want to pet his head and reassure him that he possibly meant his adventures to the theatre, assuming since the two claimed he quite so bashed Loveless into their skulls. When the auburn-haired teen answered exactly as he thought, he nodded to himself, slightly impressed. 

“Thanks Rhapsodos. For your number, that is.”

How giddy he felt over the fact that one of the most respectable upperclassmen truly wanted to keep him in contact.. he wanted to write the number on his arm along with Angeal’s and Sephiroth’s. 

“Genesis, my dear.” He chided with a light sigh. “Oh, and I added theirs too, so you and I could team up to enlighten them about the beauty of literature.” And Cloud couldn’t help but smile ear to ear, differing from the mischievous grin he got. He did not regret a second of accepting their invitation to lunch. Not a single microsecond within the light years of time. 

He would’ve missed out greatly.

\--

Since that time, hanging out with the four had become a regular occurrence. Being part of the Fencing and Kendo club meant meeting more with Zack and Angeal even with their schedules differing, being someone who wanted to be part of the Student Council, he observed the work Sephiroth covered, and having difficulty with materia meant meeting often with Genesis to hone his skill. It was unfortunate that it was hard to become one with materia that were synthically created as to the natural ones that he once had. As his lessons went on, he had to work with those “enhanced”.

In short, his life practically surrounded the four. 

Cloud recalled a couple of months after meeting Genesis and his friends, he was invited for a performance at the Academy Auditorium. That was one of the biggest surprises of his life other than breathing the same air as them.

Also, a night where Cloud found that he was an absolute fool.

You see, Cloud here is a fan of the infamous singer of a thousand voices and faces: Gackt. While he adored the music his mother listened to, he found himself connecting to the enigmatic singer, resonating with the songs he produced. 

Let’s say calling him a fan did not cut it, it didn’t explain the extent of love he had for that band. Cloud knew almost every lyric as if they were his life’s mantras, researched the meaning and context of each song that he listened to, even watched as many interviews as he could on his PHS that involved the singer.

He was in awe of his music, and also impressed by how he had an array of designs up his sleeves. It left him wondering what he’d model next.

Apparently, Gackt was said to perform in the ShinRa Academy with the permission of the Student Council as part of their celebration and program to motivate students to strive for the best. Cloud could not settle his nerves to the point of extreme nausea because holy, he was going to see his favourite singer up front! 

Surely, one would understand the excitement that is bursting out of the boy. Think of the perfect birthday present, meeting your secret admirer, the one who breathed life into you when it was too dark to remember. The one who listened when all ears were shut, who spoke when all lips went blue.

Zack wouldn’t and couldn’t understand the passion of his love for that singer. He often chided that Cloud has never met the guy, so there was no way he could really like him that much. Music and personality were two different things. A singer could always sing the words suiting to their needs, but their character, their actions, motivations, inner demons and angels were a story of its own.   
Cloud found it bothersome, but he did agree, adding that his love is more of pure admiration. 

Angeal and Sephiroth were grinning when Cloud gushed about the singer and his band, listing each member as if it was something everyone knew about, unable to sit in his seat without wanting to shout his name over and over again till the singer would point and tell him to shut the hell up. 

He must’ve appeared like a puppy excited to see his master give a delicious treat he craved for.

Cloud lost every proper sense of deduction when the stylish singer stepped in as the lights blew beneath his feet, smog fizzing its way around the stage. He didn’t even notice that the man was reading from a book while the band was warming up, quoting familiar words because he was so drawn to that voice that was at its lowest, reciting the poems wistfully. Sephiroth almost had to pull him down onto the seat before he jumps up and probably attacks the singer. 

Thankfully, he didn’t. He stayed in place, so excited and drinking every word of the singer, clapping and cheering as he begun to sing for the hour. It was one of the most glorious days of his life. The performance was over the top, full of energy and passion, and oh— he could’ve sworn the man pointed straight at him, saying ‘this is for you, cutie’ when the lights dawned upon him explosively.  
  
He winked too.

The singer was dressed in a leather coat that was adorned with feathers, chains and obsidian belts binding the black wings in place, wore familiar high-heeled boots. The band in similar make-up, all appearing as either fallen angels or demons from the bowels of Hell, but Cloud was so caught up in the hype of the performance and the darkness that surrounded the room, he didn’t have a care in the world to stop and go, ‘wait, don’t I know the singer?’

For his answer was, _‘of course, it’s Gackt, who else?’_

There was no one in the place whom he knew dressed his hair in deep cornrows. 

As the performance ended and the band settled down backstage, the euphoria hadn’t left his veins, so shaken up and still giddy, resisting the need to tell how awesome this all was. He was quite relieved when his best friend, Zack, was in a state similar, impressed and gaping at how well the band had done, how it exceeded his expectations. Sephiroth and Angeal beside him simply smiled, congratulating him on a good show and waiting for the singer to show up later.

The thought of the singer showing up later had Cloud nearly falling and dying. 

He only began to calm down due to the speakers that droned on and on with speeches that were pretty much pulled off the Internet, with only a couple of line changes to seem more stiff-upper lipped than necessary, as if it was a “professional” ceremony that Gackt’s performance disrupted. At the insinuation of that, anger boiled up inside the blond, wanting to shove his fist into that ugly face of Mr. ShinRa. Sephiroth had to go up as the members of the Student Council stood beside Headmaster ShinRa and his “true” son, Rufus. 

Surprisingly to Cloud, Rufus didn’t bother doing a speech, telling everyone that he hoped they were doing well and will continue doing so, dropping the microphone and stepping back. It was one of the most honest things he’s heard from Rufus. Pen him rude, but it filled him with respect for his older brother.

  
When the ceremony ended and the students applauded for the effort, they begun to file out of the large auditorium. Cloud stayed back waiting for the others to leave, seated before he came to a rise upon seeing Sephiroth coming up to him and Zack with Genesis in tow, both smiling casually. The auburn-haired teen gave a hum in expectation to be littered with babbles that were beginning to bubble out of the younger teen, unable to hold himself more than he was, rooting in place to keep from tackling him to the ground and bash him for missing the performance of a lifetime.

“Genesis! you missed it!”

“Missed what?” the latter seemed to have put a small cologne on, he could smell the rosy scent upon his uniform coat. 

“Gackt, he was here!” he beamed at him before realizing.. he must’ve looked like Zack doing that .

“Oh? That sounds like fun.” Perhaps he wasn’t a big fan of him either, he didn’t seem so butthurt about missing it as he was when there was a play he forgot to script last month. “How was it?”  


“It was the best performance! He sang an album’s worth of songs, even talked to us for a short intermission. He’s always been great, but he was just… remarkable today, I was completely blown away!”

They were exiting the auditorium when Cloud continued his gushing, waving his hands around, pointing to nowhere in particular. Despite the nods and the little ‘oh’s, Genesis didn’t seem any more thrilled than Sephiroth and Angeal.

And they were only as happy to be there as they were visiting a friend, not their idol. 

“What else did he do?” at least he was indulging him..

“He did recitals of poems in the lowest octave he keeps for certain songs, Genesis, you should’ve been there! He even dedicated a song to me!”

At this, Genesis let out a giggle, his loosely curled fingers raising to hover to his lips. “Sweet of him.. what poem did he recite?”

Cloud tried to recall within his fangirling nature, catching his breath before his brain finally started to function once again. Wait.. this was another one of the upperclassmen’s games, weren’t they? What did he recite, what was it..

“I think it was…” think Cloud, think! Gift of the goddess.. salvation.. eternal slumber. “Wait, it was Loveless!”

“Ah, good choice.” Genesis’ smile grew, but there was something more in it that Cloud couldn’t tell what it was.

“Yeah, his songs often seem a lot like it, he must be a big fan of it.” Cloud nodded, before coming to a hypothesis. Wait another minute! Who else is a big fan of Loveless? Sure, he was, but there was someone more in here, someone who had vast knowledge of the workings of that play, a certain auburn-haired teen who held that pink book so close to his heart.

Somehow, he brushed off that thought with another.

“Wait a minute!”

Angeal and Sephiroth shared a glance, snickering lightly as Genesis raised a thin brow at him.

“What is it, Cloud?”

“Where is he?”

Due to the lights that returned were a faint and dim light, he missed that it was Genesis who clicked his tongue in irritation, supposing it was Angeal who was making sure the students were leaving in a uniform sequence. 

“Was he supposed to be here?” Genesis’ question had Cloud pout, wondering why the auburn-haired teen was so.. misinformed.

“Yeah, they did say there was a chance to greet him..” with the way he earnt a curious tilt of his head, Cloud began to wonder if the singer and his bandmates were too busy to meet a couple of students he had no connection to, no reason to be socialize, no necessity to shower in the love of his fans.

Maybe he hated the attention. (Genesis, hate attention? Wow. Hates mingling, yes, but..)

The auburn-haired male ran a hand through his hair, gloveless hand itching the scalp and shifting his gaze to the side where Angeal and Sephiroth stood, rosy lips pursing, one of his brows still arched up. It was then Cloud noticed Angeal wasn’t paying attention to the students exiting, but was at him, smiling with a tinge of sympathy. 

There was something more in that long curve of his smile that was telling him something more, more of what..?

“You do have a chance, Cloud. Come, let’s wait outside.”

The five exited the Auditorium and were graced by the pale lights of the moon and the stars that fluttered around the night sky. Even the stars were excited for the band as the blond was, eh? He’d never seen so many stars back in Nibelheim, and here too. Today, it was a crowd!

But the thought of missing his chance of seeing Gackt had him down on his spirits, blond hair sagging down to cover his face in shame. Sensing the sorrow looming over Cloud, Zack jumped in.

“We can? How?”

Sephiroth stepped in before Genesis could lay out a frustrated moan as if Cloud was not understanding something that was a little too obvious. The elephant in the room somehow going unnoticed by him. 

“Strife, think about it.” Upon being addressed, his lifted his head to meet Sephiroth’s wide-eyed stare, incredulous, with his lips resisting a smile as he continued, “do you know anyone else who pays such close attention to Loveless?”

At that, it appeared that all colour drained from Cloud’s face, staring with wide eyes to Sephiroth, then to Angeal who closed his eyes, to Zack who shared the same bulging stare, then to Genesis who begun to smile sheepishly, teeth biting into his lower lip. 

Finally, the cogs of his mind finally turning a full gear as if oiled to perfection and cleaned of its cob-webs. 

Holy, his previous assumption was right! Cloud swore loudly, spiky strands flying all over the place as he exclaimed, “YOU’RE GACKT?”

Genesis merely laughed, “I quoted Loveless, I called you out as ‘my new little chocobo’..”

That replayed over and over in his mind. Gackt pointed at him, at him saying that their next song will be played for him. For him! 

  
His new friend and upperclassman played him like a fiddle. He might as well curl up into a bagel.

“SINCE WHEN?” how couldn’t he tell? Genesis very much has that compelling presence as the singer Gackt has, the same velvet, honeyed speech and voice that could.. wow, he has a good range. He was reading Loveless for Gaia’s sake, that was a flag that should’ve waved in front! 

Now, Cloud felt stupid as a student who was given the answer sheet on a test but couldn’t understand it. 

“Gackt.. _is but two days old.”_

“Infant Joy. William Blake.” Sephiroth revealed with a small smile, cheeks dusting with a little rose under the night’s bloom. It was adorable how it was full of a soft fondness for the quote, or Genesis who referenced it. “When did you read that, Gen?”

“A while back, to keep you both interested in me.”

Cloud’s little moment of embarrassment ebbed back into the crevices of his mind with the new point that took his attention. Why would someone as Genesis, someone who almost had two of his best friends tied to his fingers fear he wouldn’t have them by his side for long? Did he believe that it was a superficial bond that was so frail that they would flanderize his character to a pissy Loveless dramatic?

For the months he’s been with the auburn-haired male, it was surprisingly insecure, filled with a lack of confidence. Was it all a front to a vulnerable boy under that radiant red-locks and face groomed to appear as a flawless doll? He hoped that it was just a silly folly between the three and not something serious. He really hoped that Angeal and Sephiroth had not seriously told him that they were going to leave him soon.

Cloud couldn’t imagine them separating, these three pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly.   
With the way Sephiroth’s smile dimmed, he was right. It wasn’t possible for the three to part, no matter how much their nerves were struck. When those bright green eyes so full and beautiful met his, Cloud flinched.

“Strife, is it possible to lose interest in Genesis, the one you know as Gackt?”

And silly be called, but his answer was an immediate burst of, “no way!”

Relieving that his answer— outburst or not, was the right course of action. The two upperclassmen shared a nod, smiles returning as Genesis blinked at the two, seemingly put off by their compliment. He was once again caught at a loss of words, letting cerulean eyes that widened do the speaking, lips parting before pressing.

“Still—” Zack added with a swear, “Genesis is Gackt. How didn’t we think of that? He even quoted Loveless of all things!”

“Are you feeling warm?” Sephiroth asked, but with the way his smile grew on one corner, it was not a sentimental question but a tease as Cloud’s cheeks grew red as a tomato. “You’re not looking well..”

“I think he needs to lie down for a bit.” Angeal supplied, covering his chin with a palm, “he does seem a bit red and out of breath. A classic reaction to Genesis’ antics.”

Only Zack had true concern, Genesis still lost somewhere in the night, mirroring the isolated daze of Sephiroth.

“Oh my gosh, Cloud! Are you alright? Do you need my help to get back to your dorm?”

“Yes, Fair. You should assist him as soon as possible.” Sephiroth could hold back a snort, eyeing Cloud closer, with Angeal not helping them out.

“Would you take the honour, Zack?”

“Of course! I’ll get him back ASAP.”

“Wait then, was the hairstyle that Genesis wore.. the whole get up..?” his deep blue eyes bore up, glancing at auburn locks that not at all resembled the long corn-rows that Gackt had on stage. For one, the longest strands of his hair reached the nape of his neck, what he wore on stage reached his waist.

“Elementary, Cloud. It was a wig.” The silver-haired male pointed at a cross-body bag that latched onto Genesis’ side Cloud hadn’t noticed until it was quite literally pointed to him. “That’s why it took him a while to dress out of it.”

It was here Cloud noted that in a typical day, he couldn’t see Genesis’ face clearly. His hair shielded half of his face and most of his cheeks. When he was Gackt on stage, it was clear as day. Those winged lashes lined by kohl, the natural pale scarlet under his eyes, the soft contour of his cheeks highlighting the dolled-up face, his bowed lips, the dip of his chin..

Now, each feature shed shyly with his bangs, auburn protecting the pale skin and veiling his face as Sephiroth’s bangs usually did. All he knew was that the only make-up he currently had was the brown eyeshadow that highlighted the cerulean of his eyes, and still his cheeks seemed so naturally specked with rosy stardust.

Physical appearance aside, even though Cloud should be overjoyed that one of his upperclassman and friend was one of his biggest musical inspiration, it slithered dread down his spine. It was going to be very painful to know someone who could touch the hearts of so many would be enlisting in the military and possibly dying by it. 

Why was he planning to enlist when he had music to his calling? He was very good at performing, and being an entertainer was also a hero to some..

“’Geal, can we just crash at your place for the weekend?” Genesis finally came out of that little solemn sphere he put himself in, turning his face to give his friend a cheeky grin, “I would’ve offered my house, but it’s a mess right now and I don’t want Cloudy here tarnish his high opinion of me.”

“I’m pretty sure my room’s no different..” the raven-haired male answered, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “but alright, I don’t want you to give them the wrong idea of who you are.”

“You’re a good friend, ‘Geal.” How casually Genesis wrapped his arms around the teen’s shoulders was reminiscent to Zack’s habit of clinging to Cloud whenever the situation called it. In fact, as he was beginning to sulk at this moment, Zack’s arms hung loose on his shoulders, also making sure no one else deliver physical contact like a protective older brother. 

“You practically live in Angeal’s room.” Sephiroth jested, eyes slightly wider than a minute ago. Genesis turned to glance at Sephiroth, his bangs ticking Angeal’s cheek.

“Can’t help myself, been living so close to him since we were wee babies in Banora.”

“At the cost of poor Angeal’s sanity, I would think.” The snicker in his time really was something Cloud often found himself blinking to. How the silver-haired male reserved that only for his friends kept it so special.

Shifting away from him, Genesis smiled wryly. _“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.”_

Zack snickered, “now what reference was it?”

Sephiroth then closed his eyes, “Edgar Allan Poe.”

Cloud found himself smiling at the thought of the teen’s poetic soul. It was a good escape and expression of the roots of the soul that couldn’t be described in typical words and sentences. It touched the soul deeply, reminding him of the first time he saw the three together. 

They walked together to the Academy dormitory, and it amazed Cloud. He was often under the impression that he would walk these halls all alone, where no one would care if he keeled over, exhausted and hungry. Here, it was in plain sight of how wrong he was, he has friends, he has people who care for him.

He has a new family. Something he could write home to his Mum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for 200 hits~ hope you all have a wonderful weekend.


	3. To step out of a void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth's perspective! (Past)  
> A little gloomy, sort of something I tend to do very often. It may not be good, but this is second favourite to writing soft things.
> 
> **WARNINGS in this chapter are partial self-harm, suicidal tendencies (more of a lack of care for life), and violent thoughts. Overall, i want to put a warning that it's stuff no child should face.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A peek into Sephiroth’s childhood. This is divided into another chapter as I didn’t think it would go that long.  
> Unintentionally in this and chapter 5, Seph does sound a bit twisted.
> 
> Also, first appearance of the Vincent Valentine!
> 
> If there is another warning you’d like me to put in, please assume I have not caught onto it and inform me. :x

\--

Who was he?

For another time of the day, bright as healthy blades of grass, green eyes opened in the motion of an exhausted adult. Onyx eyelashes fluttered as he opened his eyes with the reluctance to start yet another day in this room. It was another moment within these four walls that held a hue similar to his hair to give the imagery of a large room, but for him, it held him too close. It barely left him room to breathe with all that was squishing onto him, squeezing all that was within him, but also forcing him to be awake for it all.  
Shifting on the bed, he curled to himself, rolling into a ball as if it would keep him from becoming a human pancake. 

Perhaps, the surroundings will take pity upon him and keep from pressing up to him. 

How small was this room? Only enough for him to have a drawer that had his clothes, a mat for his boots, a cupboard with only two rows for books, and a door to the restroom. The bed he was currently snuggling onto held more than half the room. To put in perspective, there was no walking space as everything was within the bed’s reach, and the only step he could take was either out of this room, or the room for his business.

The walls, the duvet, the mattress.. his hair, all of these were the same hue: white. The mat was stained in an array of grey and brown by the asphalt and soils of the outside when he came out of his room, and the cupboard was a deep black. The books that were placed in the shelf were ones his father recommended, bored him to death with theories and scientific discoveries that made no sense to a seven-year-old. No stories about the march of a warrior—that word he heard float around the building, nothing that changed his vision of seeing just black and white.

Studies of cells and metamorphosis, pictures of the human body and structures did not make sense to an adult even, how was he supposed to know what an ectoplasm was? 

Rising from his place of slumber, he eyed the blade that rested on the shelf’s head. There was so much he did not know. He barely knew how to read co-ordinates in the graphs he’s been shown by a man in a long white coat, not even sure what it meant to eliminate masses other than using the metallic blade that he was handed to separate heads from bodies.

Why did people cry out when their heads were parted, when a punch was landed onto their bodies? That wasn’t something worth screaming for.. there was nothing to it. So, they bleed, their skin colours weirdly, what of it? Humans practically eat beings similar to their own, those who bleed, who cry, who pounce, who blink, who feel.. what made it so different when it was them being cut into?

He tried to rest that blade upon his flesh, and all he’d seen was a strange flow of crimson, but nothing more. 

He didn’t feel like screaming, like panicking at the sight of what was inside of him, simply watched with big green eyes how it kept funneling down. Droplets of bright crimson dripped down onto the white sheet under him, spots filling like polka-dots onto the surface, contrasting greatly, sticking as a sore thumb, standing out. 

Stood out as he did, with his white gowns, silver hair, and piercing green eyes that held nothing but colour in them. If he knew how to speak against others, he would revolt about the repulsiveness of the same sight of white and black and grey and nothing more. 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t taught any of it. 

“Yes.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Will do.”

“I will obey.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

It appeared that those were the only words he was ever taught. He wasn’t taught to think for himself, not to consider the thoughts of another, simply obey, comply, and do as his father says. He was a being, there was no need to live, be alive and be free. There was no concept of “himself”, he was merely Sephiroth, an existence to be, a tool, just a piece for a puzzle he couldn’t read or see, hear or feel. 

Nothing but a pawn in a grand scheme he would never be informed of.   
The wound that he formed on the front of his palm no longer had a place to be. As three droplets slipped onto the sheet, skin joined together as closed doors, never to open again unless forced by the sharp metal.  
Sephiroth closed his eyes.

Days can go on, years and go on, and nothing mattered for yesterday, he was merely seven years old, today…

\--

There was an irritating nudge on his shoulder, racking his body around, rousing him from his much uncomfortable slumber. It was not a large hand that resembled his father, not the grunts he walked with on his expeditions ordered by the higher ups, but a hand of a young child.

When was he lying on the cold surface of soil and snow? Where was he? He was pretty sure he did not lose the light in his eyes during his travels to Wutai or Modoheim. It was cold.. the frigidity bit through every layer of the thin clothes that dressed his body, having him shiver and shake pathetically on the ground.

Or he was shaking due to the child’s hand on his shoulder, pressing and pushing to wake him up. 

No… the boy long pulled his hand away and his teeth were still chattering, finding his vision spotting as if it was a struggle to be woken up. As if he was meant to be left for dead and the interruption was going to cost the life of either his or the poor soul in front.

His cheek rubbed on the pale flakes of the cold, melting under his touch and dissolving into a droplet of water, spilled and sucked into the soil as the drop of blood onto the sheets when he split his palm. 

That was seven years ago, he was not that child anymore.

By flexing his wrist, he tried to figure out with his limited vision where it was, to his head, to his sides, dislodged? Pulling back, he concluded, ‘to the front, over his head.’ He was laying on his stomach in a shirt he nicked from one of the rooms and black pants that his father gave him. His own shirt probably thrown due to the excessive blood upon it. 

His hand hadn’t lost function yet, there was still hope for movement for him, to make haste and lift himself from the icy touch. Blinking a couple of times to shake the flecks of dark blotches away and poured his remaining strength into his arms to lift himself into a seated position.   
Perhaps then, he would be able to gather his bearings to see once again. 

The presence of the child who was trying to bring him back to Earth stayed, bubbling into a little shriek of surprise, voice so high, so innocent and young.

“Hei ‘Geal, the Angel’s awake!”

 _Angel.. who in the everliving was he talking about?_

There was no such thing as any that lingered upon the Earths they were breathing in. Seraphim, the winged figures of peace and love, radiating light that compared to none and with blades to purify the evil and the wicked.. cherubian figures with wings of white, whiter than the snow that was polluted by his presence, his blood and sweat, his grime and cells.

The child must be one of those fools that his father spoke about. Those who believe in goddesses and good will. Surely, he was not an angel, nowhere close to it. 

Had he been such a celestial being, he wouldn’t be drowning in crimson blood, hair darkening by the cruelty of curses and hatred.

Sephiroth darted his gaze to the boy, assessing whether this child had something that would account to be a threat and needed to have his neck snapped, or simply indulge him in his curiosity. The boy couldn’t be older than eleven, with auburn-hair grown a little long, too long for a male per say—in fact, Sephiroth really couldn’t tell if this was a boy or a girl, he was going by an assumption. The face didn’t help—so soft, with big cerulean eyes, cheeks reddened by the Winter’s breeze.

Hugging the boy’s small body was a dark blue blazer with the ShinRa emblem on the left breast, on top was an odd black stringed tie held by a large sapphire, and a dress-shirt as the base, hands uncovered and exposed despite the frosty chills, but no sign of the boy truly struggling within the weather that had Sephiroth shivering as a wounded dog. 

From his elementary knowledge, females wore shorter clothes upon their abdominal regions—called dresses rather than pants. This kid wore black pants that were a little large on him, slipping into the snow and over his outerwear.

Either this child was a great actor, or he was truly no threat, but Sephiroth couldn’t offer a better assessment, so desperate for something to get his blood pumping, warm his frozen body, give him the life he was losing.

The child was wide open, eyes gazing at the other boy who ran up to him, clothes similar but with a black woolen coat on top, rubbing his gloved hands to keep warm, huffing clouds of cold breath. 

If he been a warrior out for his life, he was full of openings.

There was no room for naivety on the battlefield unless you were in desperate need to meet the end. If Sephiroth wanted or willed it, he could push an icicle through the boy’s body and kill him, snap his neck with his two hands who refused to work with him, crack his skull open by a bash to the head—anything a fourteen-year-old boy could manage. 

A fourteen-year-old tool of war.

Just this once, he decided that it was not the correct course of action. It wasn’t something he wanted to do. It wasn’t an order, a request, a duty for him to kill all in his way if he didn’t hear his father’s slinkered voice in his ear through the device he lodged in. 

The two boys were of the same place he lived in. Who and what were they? He couldn’t tell.

“Gen, the boy’s shivering! We need to give him something warm to wear before he dies!” the other boy shouted—more like cried out in fear, eyes wide with eyebrows arched. The auburn-haired boy let out a gasp at the word ‘dies’, turning his face to meet Sephiroth’s.

“But an Angel can’t die, Angeal. We have to do something..”

Those eyes were so bright, gleaming and so alive. Why was the boy calling him an Angel when he had the fiery appearance of one? So fresh, soft and delicate, voice high and providing Sephiroth with a little need to smile, it was.. he didn’t have a word for it.

“I’m going to call a doctor, you stay, uhhh, hold onto him or something. You know how to do that fire thing, try it here!” the deeper voiced male instructed, and by the way he kept fidgeting, Sephiroth noted that he was trying to tell himself to do something useful than standing and staring in wonder, and in panic. 

“Okay, please make haste!”

And the boy nodded, turning on his heel and making a run for it, sprinting in the direction Sephiroth faced. If that was where the facilities laid, then was Sephiroth trying to return but passed out? Why couldn’t he remember? Was he forsaken after bad performance? 

It wasn’t a thought a youth as he should ever consider.. no child should feel that their parents had no feelings for them, but he knew his father did not love him. He smiled, he taught, he shown him to keep breathing.

That being said, Sephiroth couldn’t see anything beyond that protective spectacles of glass, veiling what those eyes truly feel. 

It was the same as this void he was slipping in. The same black and white he’s grown to disdain with all his being, wanting to do nothing but make a scowl, to growl and coat it with crimson for it seemed to be the only thing that buried the shade and hue that surrounded him. That scarlet that dripped, that had his father and other adults grimace, it welled his inside with a strange sense.. a need to do more of that. Was that satisfaction? Consider it as such, he didn’t want to stop doing it. 

With this boy, Sephiroth came to an understanding that there was something there, something more that kept him from becoming a Sephirothcicle. Those little hands that reached to him with the hesitation of a frightened yet curious little cat kept him from freezing up, from submission to the frigidity waiting to consume him whole. When those pale hands brushed over a shoulder and bicep, it filled in him the need he’s been begging for.

Warmth. 

His body wasn’t pushing away from the boy who was pulling him to himself, embracing him. Those small hands managed to lift his face, his upper body off the ground of snow, now coated in dirt and small splats of blood. Sephiroth found that he didn’t want to move away, to not step aside or shift his gaze to anything more, not to the snow, not to his purpling skin that was returning to its natural tint, not to any living being but this child.

The boy was certainly not strong. It was clear that he was the same as any other child: pathetic, and so very vulnerable. Sephiroth watched the small body be falling back as he continued drawing him close, so close that they were touching, chest to chest. He heard the thud of the small of the boy’s back hitting the trunk of a strong, sturdy tree. He could imagine the bark biting through the blazer’s material, seeping in and poking at the child’s back as he leant on it for support, struggling to keep a hold on him. 

As the child relied on the tree, Sephiroth found him making sure his cold body was making contact with his warmer body. His legs, thin under the dress pants, spread itself to accommodate. It had Sephiroth heave a sigh, it felt..

It felt. 

He had a need to stay, to be in this boy’s arms so.. strangely warm. It wasn’t as though he was fiery as a furnace, burning as a flame, but it was dimmed enough for him to feel the snowy chills parting from his body.

“An Angel…?” he croaked, wondering if his vocal cords were shot so bad, he could barely speak. It took more than a slash to an opponent’s torso to speak. His head rested on the small shoulder of the boy—Gen, the other fellow called him. The child—Gen, had his hands caressing circles on his back, his right keeping him in place as if to say, ‘none of us need to move’.

And the silver-haired boy found that his arms were not passive, stuck in place as if he was chained like a beast. He could finally feel every phalange respond to his call, his order. The energy that he found returning to him by the grace of the child who was now glancing at him. Sephiroth met his gaze with a side-long stare that hadn’t moved. 

He felt so drawn, so strangely enthralled, allured to. There was nothing else he could lay his eyes upon but the child. Responding to this need, his arms that were on his sides shifted, wrapping around the boy as a constrictor, a serpent upon a prey. If it hurt the child, he wouldn’t know.. it hadn’t hurt him when anything happened to him, even the cold that bit him relentlessly.

As far as he understood what “pain” was.

All he heard was a little gasp, or was it a little wince, Sephiroth wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the same as one who has met their demise, those screams he heard so often. There was no squirming, no struggling other than that little hitch in his breath that was by astonishment. 

Maybe he didn’t expect such strength from a near dead man. So naïve.. of him to assume he was as normal as he was. 

_“Hold me so tight.. I would break.”_

And while he didn’t understand the words, it was spoken in such a sweet manner, Sephiroth closed his eyes, arms tight and unbeknownst to him, doing as he was told. The boy’s hand came to a rest on his head, running small fingers through silver-strands in a silent wonder. Sephiroth could hear the beats of his heart so slow and steady, breaths coming in calming increments.. the boy was comfortable with him. He who tore that crimson beating organ straight out of the cage guarding it. How easily he could do that right here and now. How was the boy alright with it? Did he know his capabilities.. the so-called Angel?

The ardent caresses to his head removed all such thought, and the silver-haired boy found himself stepping into that same pool of peace as the child, body slackening but a grip still so harsh to keep from breaking away. He wasn’t sure how to put it, the simple gesture of letting this warm child’s fingers slip into his hair, rhythmically sliding up and down had his body loosen up, and he felt that it was alright to let his eyes close. 

It was alright to let his guard down and rest for a bit. 

“Over there, Mr. Heidegger! There they are!”

Sephiroth’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the humans that were not this young one, holding and held so close. It was that black-haired boy who was with him that returned with a man of similar features. So large Sephiroth couldn’t see his face without craning his neck from the boy’s shoulder.

The boy’s face turned to the sound of his friend’s trudge into the snow, eyes still wide and lips slightly parted but nothing sounded. Instead, he heard the rugged voice of the older man, full of something that once again, he was uncertain of. Nothing he’s ever heard from Professor Hojo.

“Rhapsodos, are you alright?”

That same shrill tone that the two boys had when they discovered him, they would call it ‘concern’?

“I’m fine, Sir. He’s not!” Finally, he could hear that sweet voice again, so terrified and full of that strange tinge that Sephiroth found he wanted to hear more of. That feather soft caress on his scalp ceasing for a moment, but staying, lingering as if his warm as a calm flame could keep him from death’s clutches.   
And it did feel like that. He was starting to feel alive, with his heart jumping up and down. It was not the fear of the end, but a tranquillity for the beginning. 

Boots coming close to the small Rhapsodos, Sephiroth couldn’t meet the gaze of the concerned older man but felt the large hand lift his face from the boy’s shoulder.

“Is that you, Sephiroth?”

He could only nod, finding a need to close his eyes and stay with Rhapsodos who, even in this chilling cool, was more comfort than the duvets in his dingy room. Of course, he never earns what he wants, what he desires are often taken away from him by means of ‘you don’t need useless things, my son’. Here, he was being peeled off of Rhapsodos and into the grip of the older man. Before his gaze lost the boy, he caught on the sweet boy not wanting to part, a feeling reciprocal.

A frown deepened on Sephiroth’s face as he saw specks of crimson litter onto the clean of the navy blazer and white dress shirt. The boy followed his gaze and his eyes widened, blood on his clothes was perhaps not what he expected, or he had that innocent fear children often had when they saw their insides pouring out. 

“How long was he out here, Hewley?” as the man separated him from Rhapsodos, he turned his gaze to the young boy whose hand was on the strap of the man’s belt, shivering. Perhaps he could spend some time with the auburn-haired boy who didn’t seem at all disturbed by the cold.

“We don’t know!” he answered, stuttering in his speech and teeth chattering, “we just found him a couple of minutes ago, but he was there for a while.”

“We’ll need to take him to Dr. Faremis. He could very possibly have hypothermia.” Rhapsodos gasped again, and as Sephiroth opened his eyes, he found the older man—Mr. Heidegger’s eyes on him then to the little boy. “Good work boys. Hewley for calling me, and Rhapsodos for keeping him stable, it must’ve been horrifying to see an almost dead boy.”

“I’m rather curious, Mr. Heidegger,” in the motion of a weary child, Rhapsodos attempted to stand. Catching onto this, the raven-haired boy—Hewley, offered a hand in support to stand up. With a silent smile, the boy turned his attention back to Sephiroth, reaching for his hand that laid on his chest, smile shifting to a frown. “Why was a child my age on the floor, dying and decaying?”

When that little hand met his, that warmth returned, the shivers in his stiff body ceased. His body loosened in Mr. Heidegger’s hold, green eyes meeting the hooded cerulean, so bright and pale as his skin. How could he be the same age as one who had hands that hadn’t dipped itself in crimson, so soft, so frail, so weak?

“That, is one to ask Headmaster ShinRa,” the older man frowned, steadying his grip on Sephiroth’s torso and knees, “please, both of you come inside with me.”

Rhapsodos met Hewley’s gaze before sharing a nod, following Mr. Heidegger. Sephiroth found the boy’s hand retreating and closed his eyes, longing for that baby flame.

\--

Upon gaining sight once more, he found that he was not in the same room he was for those seven years of simply existing. For one, it was spacious, he could actually walk more than thirty steps around the place without reaching a corner. What’s more, the walls were a shade lower, as a cool, calming grey with posters hung on the wall, each of them framed and well-cared for. The duvets were a deep crimson. Soft velvet under his touch, his hand feeling every bristle brush as he stroke the material, so comforting and cushioned, he wanted to stay nestled and not be bothered to wake up. 

At the same time, he wanted to hop straight out of bed and seek out that auburn-haired boy and his friend, Rhapsodos and Hewley, they were called. The two who managed to keep him from meeting his demise by frostbite. Speaking of that, what was his current status? On his deathbed?

It was a nice deathbed. A little too nice.

Maybe he was enticed to die. Have one final kiss and be gone into nothingness. 

What was it that boy was requesting him to do? Hold him so tight that he breaks..? In that moment, he was ready to break that delicate child if he was in full health, how easily he would snap under his hold when his strength was in full force. His father would’ve barked a loud laugh, telling him to give ‘the pathetic lad what he wants’. It would be very amusing to him, for he knew that had he done so, the child would not have struggled, there would be no screams, no wails, no weeping, no begging for mercy from the auburn-haired boy. 

Rhapsodos would’ve smiled and close his blue eyes, resign and allow himself to be broken, to be ravaged by him. Hadn’t he, he would’ve pleaded once again with that sweet, honeyed pitch, to break him chink by chink, piece by piece, and have him wish for everlasting salvation from the goddess. 

That perfect prey would accept his fate with a smile. 

Blinking a couple of times, he shook his head as if it would help in removing the thought. What was he thinking? Dreaming of killing despite having no true interest in shedding blood and offering a display of despair onto undeserving ones. That child practically birthed life back into him and he was considering ending his life? How was he going to keep this newly lit torch of life going if he ended the one who provides the necessities for it?

Now, he may be young as fourteen-years old, may not have a good understanding of human emotion or why people have it, probably not have the same education that children his age did, but he was no fool. He knew what it meant to owe someone his life. He was in debt to those two children who stopped by.   
He could not kill the two until they were deemed threats. 

Lifting himself to sit up, he heard unfamiliar voices by the door, unable to decipher what was spoken. Or argued, by the way there was an elevated voice, and the other hushed and collected. He couldn’t tell if the retreating one was his father, or it was someone who worked beside him. 

He was only certain that the two children from before were not involved. 

Just then, there was a light rap at his door. Sephiroth contemplated ignoring the call on the door, the brush of fingers on the wood, but answered to the best of his ability to enter.

“You can come in.”

At least his response didn’t consist of disgusting croaks as if his throat was so dry, it was scratching the corners. 

Upon affirmation, the knob clicked as the door creaked open, revealing a young man with vivid and blank crimson eyes, striking and piercing through Sephiroth, with its only saving grace be the jet black strands of his hair coming down his face, strands falling over his nose and nearly veiling one eye.

Bright red bore into bright green, and Sephiroth had to hold back a small cry of surprise. It was one of the first few times he truly felt intimidated, as this was not someone he wanted to cross wrongly. Something deep inside of him informed of silver bullets lodging into his head if he came across him in an unwelcoming manner.

But as the young male spoke, it was evident that it was only the eyes that were the shade of blood that beckoned a warning.

“Good evening, Crescent.”

Crescent.. that was his name, right? Sephiroth Crescent..

“You might not be aware of who I am, please pardon my lack of etiquette,” Sephiroth could not understand why the man bent down to offer a bow, he wasn’t his superior or any of that.. “my name is Vincent Valentine. I have been assigned the duty to watch over you.”

“Vincent Valentine..” he repeated, letting his tongue roll around to cast familiarity upon the name. “Why do I need that? I reside in the small room that father has given me.”

Those eyes that poured shivers down his spine widened, and inside was that same sentiment he’d witnessed on the public safety operator, Mr. Heidegger: concern. Why were these people concerned for him? Worried? Nervous? They must’ve known that he would not cause them harm, and yet.. those eyes that whispered unknown apologies came his way.

Was he wronged?

“You were not informed, my apologies, but I sent a request to enroll you into the ShinRa education program.”  
Lowering green eyes to the duvet covering his lower body, he parted his lips. On his left hand was a tube connected to a plastic bag hanging by a metallic rod. They were trying their best to keep him alive, were they? He still had a role in their expeditions of wiping out threats, eh.

“Do they not fear that with education.. I could turn my back against ShinRa? Destroy it from the inside out?”

The man—Vincent closed the door without a shred of force, letting it gently click closed as he took a couple of steps closer. Those eyes flicked to him, requesting permission to sit near him. Green eyes meeting red once again, he nodded. Vincent came to a rest, sitting on the foot of the large bed, facing Sephiroth with kind eyes.

“You are an intelligent lad, Sephiroth—may I call you that?” another nod, and Vincent continued, “if it came down to destroying ShinRa Military School from the inside out, I would assume you have a good reason for it.”

“Would you support it?” why hadn’t he gotten a stricken glance? Why was it that he didn’t point that gun on his waist to him? 

“If there’s a reason to, I would.” It wasn’t a lie, he could tell. Nothing in that deep sombre indicated, his heartbeat level and still so chillingly calm as the snow outside. 

So, this black-haired man was willing to become a traitor for a child? Sephiroth wanted to press further onto it, a smile gracing his lips. It was rather amusing, it filled him with the need to push just a bit more, until he was propelled back.

“There is currently no reason. I have spoken the words that would account to treason had it been a Kingdom. Why have you not pointed your gun at me?”

“Because you are permitted to ask questions, make bold claims as long as you don’t commit to it,” it only drew out a small sigh from the adult, “and besides, should I shoot a wounded lion?”

There it was. A small smile slipped under the perfect mask of indifference. Vincent was smiling as his eyes lowered, and Sephiroth found.. he liked seeing that. It was better than that glare that stared into a thousand yards.

“A wounded lion.. ah yes, you got me there.” How foolish, how pathetic, how pitiful would it be if Vincent shot a boy who most likely could not stand on his two feet in this waking moment? To load a bullet through a child who currently had an IV strip to offer him nutrients to live..

Truly senseless. Rather stupid, really.

“Anything else you would like to ask?” was he laughing? 

“Yes.. elementary questions, Mr. Valentine.” Finding a glass of water beside him on a brown oak night-table, he lifted it to his lips with his right hand. “When do I start this education program?”

Vincent took a moment of consideration, of pondering, eyes on the hands that curled around one another on his lap before he answered. “Since it is January, I was thinking within a week. It would be enough time for you to recover from your injuries, have your uniform ready and classes scheduled.”

His eyes flicked up to him another time, “before you ask, no. We will not have you sent anywhere during this program. It has been noted by the Headmaster that you only be sent on emergencies. It was wrong to have you sent at such a young age, but Professor Hojo is a good liar..”

“Did he lie about my capabilities?” he wasn’t sure what he wanted to know, but if it got him somewhere, he might as well get the answer for it. 

Vincent shook his head. “Your age. He claimed that you were already past the age of eighteen due to the rapid growth of your body, but Dr. Faremis managed to get the truth out.”

Dr. Faremis.. that was the name Mr. Heidegger cited that time. Why did it sting when that name reached his ears?

“So, they found I am of no use in the battlefield.. now they are sending me to be reinstated.” It was not a pleasant word, but that was all that circled his mind. 

He was already an elite soldier at his age, killing all that came his way, withstanding every blow that pierced and punctured his body, and he gets removed off his duty? His only duty other than being in his father’s lab, watching men in white coats prick his skin with needles?

If Rhapsodos believed in a being called a goddess, then he was a _freaking idiot_. 

Vincent must’ve seen that flicker in his eyes, that resentment that was filling pure green, the shades of life. So much for being alive, he was nothing but a body that was constantly used for others. Now, he was nothing but a useless husk.

“No, Sephiroth! It’s not like that!” the adult reached for his hand that clenched on the velvet fabric of the duvet, grasping his hand and enveloping it with his larger one. “I made that request because I think it’s about time you live for yourself!”

Sephiroth glared at him. 

“Just what does that mean, Mr. Valentine? _Live.. for myself.”_ As he repeated those words, it was filled with such venom, it could’ve poisoned the poor man in the three-piece gabardine suit, drown him in a pool of toxic waste so vehemently relentless.

“Sephiroth, you’re not a toy of your father, you deserve to understand the world you live in, the life that is yours.” His hushed baritone rose in volume, and Sephiroth figured it was due to fear. He really wanted to be heard and heeded. 

“But what am I?” lowering his eyes, he kept a level glare to crimson eyes that widened, speaking pleads to live, to be alive, to finally enjoy the gift that it is. 

“You are m— a child, Sephiroth. A growing child who deserves to live, to be _free_.”   
Widening his eyes slightly, he wondered if he heard right. Why did it seem like Vincent had stuttered, almost saying ‘my child’?

“According to you, this education program.. taking away my blade is what I need to live, to be free?” He received a slow nod, eyes focusing on the lump in his throat that he shovelled down.

“How will it do that?” Finding his eyes travel down to the hand that grasped his, he heaved a sigh similar as the adult. “How will it erase the blood off my hands?”

  
“I cannot answer that at this moment, but you will find the answer within time.” At least, Vincent was honest. He didn’t lie with sugary sweet words or hide the truth from him. If he did not know, he would immediately let him know, and what he knew, he let out. Sephiroth found it alright to make do with what he was getting. “You will meet people, kids your age and explore what you value. What needs to be learnt, what does not.”

“Alright.. I start in two days, given it is Saturday today.” Education programs.. meeting students, fellow children his age and caliber—no, children who have not lifted blades, with purity that he had when he was five, whose eyes bulge out of their sockets at the sight of a wound, children who… “Will I in a program with.. Hewley and Rhapsodos?”

“Hewley and Rhapsodos?” the raise of the man’s brows told him enough of his wandering thought of, ‘you know them?’

“Yes, those were the kids who called Mr. Heidegger.”

He watched Vincent’s little surprise morph into a silent wonder, crimson eyes travelling down to the ground or the velvet of the duvet.

“I believe you are in their class, seeing as they are in your age group.”  
Sephiroth found himself smiling again at the thought of the two students being around him another time. Only for this phase, he would not be bloodied and shivering, skin purpling by the cold and the sight of death upon him. He would be freshened, and in uniform, walking the same road as them. 

Very interesting.

“I should bring a proper meal to you before you return to rest, Sephiroth.” Vincent stood up from his position, the mattress making a creak as the former weight came off it. “I am relieved that it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“A pleasure?” Sephiroth tilted his head rather childishly, curiosity forming in those eyes and finally appearing his age.

“Yes, I found myself wanting to smile more than once. Thank you.” He was heading to the door when he turned his face just a bit, a smile on his handsome features. With a nod, he excused himself from the room, leaving Sephiroth alone to ponder.

So, this was his new room, wasn’t it. It was not bad.. a nice change from the emptiness of his former. On the shelf there seemed to be a bigger selection of books that he could peruse. He assumed those were for his class and some for leisure. 

Why would he have a course with a book titled, “LOVELESS”?

“Interesting..” he found himself vocalizing, letting himself fall back onto the bed, head snuggling the pillow under. “Very interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ (wow, now it's 300 hits..)  
> Genesis' quote is a lyric from "Returner", a song of Gackt.


	4. ShinRa Schooling Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth’s perspective once more! Continues chapter 4’s time. The poor boy's experiencing a change in atmosphere, leaving him quite puzzled from time to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seph seems to be the one I am most in-tune with writing. It's perhaps the introspection in it. It’s a bit different from Cloud who tends to wander between expressing his interests boldly to quiet observation and yet not different from Seph’s. 
> 
> Angeal’s viewpoint might be next, I’m not sure about Genesis and Zack at the moment. Genesis seems better to emphasize with the former two being the main focus. Perhaps it is because the two are the more vocal ones—they’re out in the open, rather than in their heads. Angeal’s a bit of both, what do you think?

\--

As the man in the clean, black gabardine suit—Vincent had informed him, he was to enter a new life starting today, Monday morning. For one, he was given the choice of uniform he wanted to wear—from blazers of black to blue shades, lengths varying—he chose a shade of black and long, reaching down his thighs. The hems of the black blazer were stitched in a bright gold, signifying the value of the clothes and emphasizing status as a high prestige student. 

He didn’t have to wear the garbage grey shirts his father gave or the black slacks that was barely comfortable. Now he was given dress pants where he could breathe and feel a sense of comfort within, a shirt that was actually washed every couple of days now that he had about three pairs. No longer did he wear his father’s hand me down boots, now it was a crisp black leather boots that ensured easy and precise movement.

In short, he could easily see that Vincent put a lot of care into assembling his new phase in life, to show the first steps of “owning his own life”. Nothing was pre-picked, anything that he wanted, he got to point and ask if he could have it something similar in standing, and the next day, he’d gotten it. All he was required to do was attend his classes, do well and earn that credit that would help him decide what he wanted within this life, not for someone else, for he and himself only. 

Vincent only asked for trust in him, for him to try no matter how difficult it was. And Sephiroth figured it was alright to comply.

Sometimes, it was alright to indulge others. If it benefitted himself. 

Walking through the walls with other students was an experience. How long has it been since he had been in company of those who were not lab-coat freaks? Too long for him to recall. To walk with all these inexperienced, normal, vulnerable people must’ve been the same as a lunatic in public, smiling ear to ear as he smiled to nothing and no one but the atmosphere.

His heart was pumping so loudly, he didn’t have to single out anyone and eliminate them. Here was nothing he could do, nothing that he was ordered to do that was not ‘mingling’. No plunging blades, no lifting a hand to grasp a head and shove it so hard to the wall they’d shatter both the wall and their face, no wrapping his hands around the frail necks of people, listen to their windpipes struggle for air, to stop—

He really did not fit in, did he? What child thinks of all these as they walk the halls? Who knows every part of the body to puncture, to wound to elicit the agony stricken howls, blood curdling screams, pathetic wails to cease the ache.. the discomfort as they squirmed away from him, the fear in their eyes as he gouges each out—

 _Holy_. 

Why couldn’t he stop thinking of various ways to inflict pain onto others? 

Sephiroth shook his head, finding his throat rip a gasp. Realizing he almost screamed in the halls, slapped his hands on his lips, pressing to keep it from sounding another shriek.

“Y’alright, mate?” someone beside him asked, brown eyes wide and curious, “I’ve never seen you around.”

Here it came, the influx of questions.

“Wait! You’re new here, aren’t ye?”

Sephiroth glanced at him, hands still stuck upon his mouth, taking in a harsh breath through his nose. Thankfully, there was someone with enough understanding to put a halt to what was going to become an awkward interaction.

“Lannister, don’t pressure him. He is new, give him some space..” she advised, and Sephiroth’s eyes landed to her, blinking. 

“Ye, but aren’t you curious, Cyn? I’ve never seen a lad with white hair!”

“It’s silver, ye clod. Silver hair!”

Flicking his gaze between the two, he shifted away as slowly as he could so the two wouldn’t notice as they were bickering. Golly, when he agreed to Vincent’s decision to send him to school, he didn’t think it would be this difficult. _What was he supposed to do when it came to breathe the same air as others? Talk?_

_He was never taught how to!_

Removing his hands and letting it clench around the strap of his cross-body bag, his knuckles grew white as he grasped so hard, it would’ve broken the wrist of any unfortunate child. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, he realized this is the stimuli of fear, of panic. The feeling where you’re not sure what you can do, what will be the lead to your downfall..

He was afraid in this moment, despite having all the power to eliminate threats. Why? Because this was not the place where he could apply those methods, he had to walk another way, a new avenue otherwise his superior will surely be disappointed. 

So, this is how it felt to be glued in one place, shivering in his boots… like a chicken unsure if he should cross the road or not.

Keeping his gaze to the ground, he continued to march through the halls in hopes of finding the room he was supposed to sit within. What number was it? Room A-2? Something like that.. that’s what the schedule says.

Where was he? Hall 2? 3? 4?

Glancing up as a clueless fool he was, he found that he was indeed in Hall-A. Well, right area, now to find Room A-2, and with hope brimming in his nerve-wracked figure, that he would not meet anyone until he stepped into the classroom.

Maybe there was an existence of a goddess who wanted to spare him some grains for his misfortune, for his dilemmas called existence. He made it to class without interaction. 

He didn’t sit where he found was a bit too conspicuous to a main character in a story; where the window stood. Instead, he went to the middle as it was just between the window, the back and not too close to the instructor who’d adore to pick on him to see his eyes bulge as a deer in the headlights. 

At least the middle and a bit to the left was not the center either. It was just the right spot.

Begging not to be disturbed, he zipped open his bag to pull a book—any book to read, to keep others away from thinking he was open to discussion, free to approach. People did that, right? Pulled a book or covered their ears to prevent students from walking up to them as if they own the world… 

When the class began to fill up with more children, Sephiroth figured it was nearing class time. He shot glances around the beige walls of the room, searching for the clock to find the time. The wall they faced was pretty much a large chalkboard, with the option of a dry-erase boards to slide around and veil the chalk-board. To the side was two doors, one at the front and the other at the back—contrary to the typical one door room. Perhaps, it was a large room.

Then again… any room that wasn’t his old room was a large one to him. 

As students began to file in, the wide walls began to shrink and shrink, the space growing smaller and smaller. Sephiroth darted his gaze away from the walls that had a pin-up board for.. he wasn’t even sure what it was for. Posters? What kind? They were not here to be entertained; they were here to be drilled with information they could use in the future. Well, there was a globe next to the chalkboard, guess that was the answer to his question.

It was geography class.

As the instructor stepped in, Sephiroth’s attention diverted. There was nothing that appeared worth keeping in mind. He knew the locations and terrains like the back of his hand—having gone there more than once as a child. It was difficult to forget something that had surrounded his entire life. 

He figured it was for the students who didn’t have the experience he did. Those kids who would stare with googly eyes when they travel, call it “sight-seeing” rather than a search and destroy mission. He wondered if Rhapsodos and Hewley would be gawking in amazement if they had to travel into the air with a chopper, watching as they grew further and further away from the surface and into the sky that was polluted with clouds of..

He didn’t know what the clouds were made of, but they were not those white, puffy cute things he’s seen in a drawing. It was full of smog and darkness.. as if someone had taken the purity of the said being and violated it so bad, it could not recover. The clouds could not return to its former beauty, if it even had it.

Those smoggy, disgusting pieces of impure puffs were just like him. Destroyed, decayed, dead. No, he was alive, but he was repulsive, a rejection, a toy to be used to ruin lives of all including his own. 

His life was not his own—

“Mr. Crescent, can you stand up for a moment?”

A loud voice called, firm and yet in wonder. Sephiroth realized that he was being called after a couple of blinks and hearing the adult speak once more.

“Crescent, is everything alright?”

He heard mutters, murmurs, whispers going around asking if he was just stupid or deaf, was he so spoilt by his parents and his prestige that he didn’t find the need to obey his superiors anymore? More came in the form of insults to his mother and father who couldn’t bother teaching him how to speak, one of the students guffawing at the memory of the silver-haired boy shrieking out of nowhere.

Sephiroth ran his teeth over his lips, biting hard upon the rosy surface and almost drawing blood. It was more difficult than he assumed to hold back his shaking fists, his twitching fingers from ripping tongues straight out of the mouths of the students who think themselves as clever and sharing hushed nonsense.   
He had to do the least he was capable of doing. Darting a sharp glare at them enough to draw blood and still the human heart, he responded to the instructor, standing at his full, rather impressive height. 

Somehow, he seemed a lot taller than he initially appeared—must’ve been the expression and the looming sense of doom emitting from him.

“Sir, I am finding myself to be unwelcomed here. These students.. my fellow people are not as well-behaved as you would think,” finding their faces pale at the sight of death looming over them, he sneered so long it almost ripped his thin, pale cheeks. His silver hair dragged a shadow down his face as he continued sneering, eyes bright and predatory, hoping their souls flew out to seek refuge in Hell’s garden. 

“Please seek to it that they learn not to gossip. It is cruel as it is foolish.” His gaze slowly shifted to the instructor who clearly flinched at the sight of what the students, his peers have seen. “It is not nice to spread false words and expect niceties in return, wouldn’t you think so?”

And he was bloody satisfied with the shaky nod he received in return.

“You want me to introduce myself? I am fine with that, seeing as no one will ever forget..” closing his eyes and plastering a fakely neutral expression, he let his eyes roam, the dangerous glint still present. “My name is Sephiroth Crescent, born under the carcass of ShinRa, the very foundation you are privileged to study in.”

He didn’t know what was causing it, but the squirms, the way the students backed a good couple of inches away, begging to be separated from him was amusing. He wanted more and more of it, just people fearing their ever-living lives of him, the so-called extraordinary “Prodigy Crescent”. He basked in the chills that he poured down the pathetic students’ spines. That would teach them to try and make a mockery of him. The youngest soldier who never failed his mission no matter how difficult it was. 

Perhaps, they hadn’t recognized him as his surname was never used, and currently, his silver locks were tied to a neat ponytail and he was in a uniform similar to their own, not in buckles, belts and pauldrons.   
Would Hewley and Rhapsodos fear him too? Cower the way these students were?

His inquiry had a response, a purposely loud laugh humming from his left side where they sat. _Rhapsodos_. 

The boy with that fiery auburn hair, apparently not giving a second of his time to join his peers in their shattered bravado, their pride broken. On his desk were two books, one that had strokes of a careful pencil as he continued scribbling, and the other with a long cursive writing Sephiroth couldn’t read. The stroking of the blank white paper ceased only when cerulean eyes leered side-long.

“People tend to dislike what they cannot get, mock the one who has what they seek,” his dwindling words as the loopy text in the book that the boy now shut, his words so soft and lovely for one that reads avidly. “Purely classless, are they not, Angel? The one beloved by the exalted one..”

Sephiroth’s previous enthrallment to him returned in full force, smiling back as he was dealing with a powerful opponent, one that would never, ever keep him bored. He revelled in it.

“Those are pretty words.. but what did I expect from a pretty boy?”

Boy, did that boy look better now that he was freshened up, casually challenging someone clearly superior to him with nothing but defiance and confidence that appeared out of nowhere. How he was the only one in the class who hadn’t lost their sheen, their wits.. even Hewley had an apprehensive glance at his friend, begging all the gods in the world to cease the madness about to sprout. 

The silver-haired boy wanted to test him further, knock him off that pedestal he imagined himself on, drag him down so hard his spine would crush under the hard surface, finally watch as all that self-assurance go, so Sephiroth could ask, ‘where’s that cockiness of yours now?’

And how the auburn-haired child’s eyes gleamed in challenge. For a moment, he felt that he could set aside the misbehaviour and the stupidity of the public if there was Rhapsodos around to keep him entertained. 

“Oh, flatter me so, Angel. You’re not the only one who has a gift from the goddess..”

“You really believe that goddess bull?” he had to wait..

“Don’t you?” auburn lids lowered—check one. “I do. She’s why we are here, as you put it, enjoying our privilege here.”

And golly, was Sephiroth waiting for, _‘surely, she did not like you for your disbelief, seeing as she left you on the ground to die.’_

“Rhapsodos! Do not pester the new student.” the teacher reprimanded, “it is rather impolite of you, and I’ll seek that you apologize at once or—”

To the instructor’s shock, it was Sephiroth who interrupted him.

“No, it’s quite alright, Sir.” With a kinder tone, he finally reminded himself that he was not supposed to let his instincts take over. It was not what he truly liked to do—it was merely the only good thing he had, the only advantage he had over the children his age. He couldn’t put Vincent’s efforts to change his life be in vain. “I provoked you and my fellow peers. If anything, I should apologize.”

Now smiling kindly to Rhapsodos, he continued, “and to indulge my friend Rhapsodos. After all, he did assist me when I was starting out, didn’t you, dear boy?”

And boy, was the dumb-founded face _hilarious_. If he had his PHS on hand, he would’ve snapped a photograph and send it back to him with a caption of how foolish he appeared over a measly compliment. _Hey Rhapsodos, that really ain’t the face of a hero_. 

“You guided him here? My, that is very kind of you.” The instructor smiled out of his little moment of shock, as if kindness really was not part of the dictionary when it came to Rhapsodos. 

Was he a misbehaving student? If that’s the case, then he makes a great actor. Sephiroth couldn’t tell which was the act—this confident and rather imposing face that perfectly competed against Sephiroth’s, or the meek boy who was trying to save an “angel” as he put it.

Whatever it was, it hushed the boy. He turned away from them, smiling lips pressing into a pout as he gazed at the window, offering his attention to the snowflakes that fell from the sky and onto the earth. Sephiroth kept a smile, bearing holes through Rhapsodos’ head as he seated himself, opening the textbook that closed earlier. 

The instructor then heaved a sigh, unable to shake off what transpired so early in the morning, unsure how to start their day without wanting an immediate dismissal. He was still so rattled by the sudden outbursts that he couldn’t find himself settling without the need to race to the restroom and lock himself in for a day or two. 

Why was he so frightened? He couldn’t tell. His heart kept crying, ‘ _why did you send demons to my class?’_ and a consideration of retiring very, very early. 

  
\--

They were in a large room next, long enough to fit about 200 people at once, with the imagery of a battlefield that had not a single loss anywhere. Weapons were stacked at the walls on a series of racks. Swords, lances, axes, flails, each of them of differing kinds resting on the dark woods, and each student ran around to take in the display. Sephiroth found himself disinterested in the array of weapons, already having a couple to his calling and wanting nothing more. It was then, once again, where he diverted his attention to the two students who he was most familiar with. 

Now, do not misunderstand. Sephiroth is not a predator, he was not seeking new prey to kill and consume, he was trying his best to blend in without doing the above, and the first couple of hours of his day, he failed to already do that. Their first class was at 09:00 hours, and now it was 12:00 hours, all he was able to accomplish was getting almost the entire class to segregate themselves from him, treat him as they would a neurodivergent.

Try and send him to another class that could cater to his “needs”.

The only one who showed absolutely no sign of revulsion, of nausea built out of being scared out of their wits, distancing themselves for their safety was Rhapsodos. Rhapsodos smiled at him, actually smiled at him as if he was something very interesting to study. 

Earlier in their class, when the lectures somehow went on, he felt cerulean eyes glance at him through his heightened senses, he felt his presence to be the only one that rooted in place, not shivering, not shaking, not wondering if there was going to be a fist up his face and knock down a couple of his teeth.

No.. he only smiled, murmuring passages to himself that only Sephiroth heard, but wasn’t sure what he was referencing. Some bullcrap on goddesses descending from the sky in the hour of need, something that sounded a little too Biblical for his liking. He had nothing against it, but for a boy so stained with blood, it didn’t suit him to be forgiven by that figurehead of that book. 

Hero was an exaggeration for his demonic deeds condoned by his father and the Headmaster. 

If Rhapsodos knew what it was like to be him, would he be giving him those hopeful eyes? Even Hewley hesitated, practically dragging Rhapsodos away from him, taking a step forward protectively despite quivering in his little shoes unlike the auburn-haired boy who simply smiled wryly at his friend. 

Hewley was the one with the right idea. To be wary of him, closed and guarded was appropriate, and yet.. he wanted him out of the way, to let him bother Rhapsodos till he too, was bothered. He didn’t want it done second-hand, no.. he wanted the warm child to be directly exposed to the nastiness that he is. 

The true demon that he is. 

“Class, in a linear fashion, now!” the instructor barked. Heaving a sigh, Sephiroth watched as every student stood so close to one another, they were almost hugging each other. Now, that was just pathetic. “You three, in line.”

She was referring to the three as in—himself, Hewley and Rhapsodos. Hewley gave a quick nod, hand giving a kind squeeze to the auburn-haired boy who frowned, reluctant to go. There it was again, that glance his way.

Sephiroth shrugged his shoulders before he tried to join the other students. Of course, it was not a perfect world—rather, it was one big, horrible joke that he couldn’t laugh at. As soon as he was a foot close to his peers, they ran to the other corner of the room as if he shot them with a force-field.

Foolish classmates… he doesn’t even know how to do that.

Rhapsodos had the nerve to laugh once again. Hewley brought a hand to his lips and was chiding a loud, ‘shhhhh’, but to no avail.

“Man.. this is just like dodgeball, wouldn’t you say, ‘Geal?” he addressed Hewley, snickers not finding a pause, then turned his head to glance up at the instructor, “can we do that? Just team us three against the rest?”

The instructor sneered at him, and Sephiroth found himself glancing at her, finally away from the child. Scarlet was what he wanted to call her, as her makeup, her clothes, and the clip she had on her hair were that very shade. Blonde locks came asymmetrically to her left, overall a lot younger than Mr. Heidegger, but older than their geography instructor. 

“Do you want to die, Rhapsodos?”

Sephiroth started to assume that Rhapsodos was notorious at pissing people off with that sweet smile and seemingly venomous presence he had. Sure, he gave the class a reason to stay away from him, but for the rather pretty student treated in a manner similar… something was off about him. 

Hewley was the only one who stood by him, even if his aura spoke of uncertainty. Uncertain why they were friends? That’s possible.

“Guess I do, Ma’am,” he glanced at Sephiroth for the umpteenth time, “but this time, I have a special weapon.”

The instructor barked a laugh, running her long scarlet nailed fingers on the top of his head. “Well, you’re in luck, half-pint. Headmaster informed us to try an experiment with materia.”

Sephiroth mentally swore. _What the hell is materia?_

Well, sorry Rhapsodos. No special weapon at your arsenal. Hope you have the return receipt in hand, for you would need to get an exchange at hero shop. 

He expected him to blanche, to lose all sense of self at the fact that they were experimenting on something that they were certain had no experience with. He expected the boy and his friend drawing back, clicking their tongues that damnit, they don’t know.. whatever that is.

None of it came, in its place, Sephiroth found nothing but a strange gleam in those eyes. Nope, something else must shake him up.. he was presumably fourteen or younger, what does he know of the world?

Sephiroth took a step forward, “Ma’am, what is materia?”

Her blue eyes leered down as she scoffed, “so much for being such a big demon, doesn’t even know what materia is..” but her heeled feet kicked at a box in front of her to answer his question.

“Gather up to get a piece or I’m going to give you all a F. Not that I really give a flying f.ck about this.”

All except the three—Hewley because of Rhapsodos and going along his actions with a bead of sweat down his face, completely and utterly regretting his life choices, ran to the box as the instructor unlocked it, handing each a red orb. Rhapsodos held his with such fascination, Sephiroth raised a quirky brow.

“Why do you stare at it like it's your baby?”

Rhapsodos glanced at him, smiling sweetly, but offered no words.

“Now students, what you are holding is what we call Materia,” she glared at Sephiroth before continuing, “from these.. you harness a beauty called magic. Focus your energy upon these, and you would bring out a beautiful spell that resonates with the colour of this piece.”

She heaved a sigh at the sight of some students losing focus, zoning out, “I’m not going to demonstrate because you all seem to know so well how to use it. Failure to execute this within a week and you fail, understood?”

While groans could be heard, Hewley and some students gave a loud, ‘yes!”. Sephiroth found Rhapsodos one of the few who wasn’t giving her the time in the world as he was. Surely, it would not go past her.

“Rhapsodos, why don’t you demonstrate a good fira?”

And being put on the spot didn’t nerve him in the slightest. Now Sephiroth had to give him credit for that.

“Of course, Ma’am..” he offered her a kind smile, but all it said was, ‘you’ll be the one embarrassed for trying to pull a quick one.’

It then occurred to Sephiroth that.. this may have been his first day, but for the others.. it was probably a month or two of these lessons. He seemed to be the only one who didn’t know anyone. The black sheep in the herd, the ugly duckling in the group of beautiful swans, the freaking loser with no friends in a class full of friends.

That’s why Rhapsodos spoke so familiarly with all, and they didn’t appreciate it. Sephiroth was not hating him, but he was hating how school is administered. It acted no different than his father: wanting people to submit to whatever he does as he guarantees their lives. Was that the role of a teacher? He could’ve presumed that they were supposed to resemble Vincent: an actual guide to the growth of the youth, someone who was willing to go through harsh lengths to ensure their student would attain the education they need. 

Perhaps he too, was naïve..

“Wait, Gen, you don’t have to.. you know how much she likes picking on you.” Ah how cute, his friend was trying to protect him once again. Sephiroth wondered if that was a common thing about friends, to defend them even at an action that would upset another. 

He didn’t heed it, but the smile showed gratitude for his worry. 

“It’s fine, Geal. Stand back please, my friends, this is going to burn real bad.” Rhapsodos warned, smile growing as he stretched his arm that held the crimson orb. Sephiroth didn’t back standing back, staying just a foot away from him, Hewley a couple, and the peers stood by the instructor who moved back to the bleachers. 

The silver-haired male observed, wondering if he was able to hurl the spell that the materia contained. It was very much possible that he would and would not be able to. Judging by the self-assurance he possessed that didn’t dim, he believed in the possibility of success a lot more. 

The class watched as he stood, eyes closed and slowing his breathing. It was almost meditative, the way he steadied himself. To the untrained eye, however, it was as if he was pretending to be a statue, doing the mannequin challenge or simply wasting their time. 

“ _Today_ , Rhapsodos.” The instructor rolled her eyes, and Sephiroth resisted the urge to roll his own eyes. It was quite clear that he was concentrated on showing them a blaze of glory, but it takes time. Since it is their first time, it seemed, a minute would be appropriate.

“Teacher please, he needs to concentrate.” Hewley grumbled, bringing Sephiroth’s attention back to the auburn-haired boy. 

Just then, the atmosphere filled with heat. The silver-haired boy smiled, happy that he returned on time and was first in line to witness a good fire spell. Instead of only coming from his wrist, green eyes caught sight of fire forming all around him, from near his dress shoes spinning upward, dancing around him so content and graceful.. it was as if he was born to make a beautiful flame. 

Eyes fluttering open, cerulean meeting emerald as he smiled, willing the flames to rest upon his wrist and flung it ahead where Sephiroth noticed a bunch of dummies stood. Each ball of flame that he shot hit the dummies with a dead-eye accuracy, something that earned a raise of both brows from the silver-haired boy, and amazement by each peer. 

Now that was something, when did fourteen-year-old children who haven’t been out fighting a war or anything practice using a rather dangerous power as materia? They could use it to bully others, better yet, kill someone. 

The instructor smiled expectantly, knowing that he had a penchant for using materia. “Rhapsodos, notice the difference in the materia?”

“They’re not natural.” Rather than smiling and absorbing the praise that was to be showered his way, there was a frown on the auburn-haired boy. 

“I knew you’d be able to tell. We’re manufacturing man-made materia for ease of the future soldiers.” She held a crimson orb to her line of vision, “you can see they are easier to activate..~”

Rhapsodos had a scowl that informed the viewer that he was very much displeased that the Academy were manipulating with the wrong material, that some things should stay natural rather than be exploited, used as tools of war. “They are effective, I suppose, but they are repulsive.”

He had the audacity to toss it onto the ground near their feet, “disgusting. I would never use a materia as cheaply made as this. The best you could do is only make one good use out of it and then...”

The silver-haired boy took a glance at the orb discarded and with rather intrigue, watched how the scarlet faded into nothing, into a translucent grey that showed all magic in it had died upon usage. With the way he glowered at the orb he held, Sephiroth could tell it was rather important to him—the existence of materia.

 _“My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.”_ His eyes met Sephiroth’s as a ghost of a smile returned to his soft face. It was that tender gaze he had when he found him bleeding to death outside a couple of days ago. Well, Sephiroth could give Vincent a note that he met a boy who had a rather unshakeable belief in the goddess. 

“The gift of the goddess?” he deadpanned, eyes flicking to Hewley who shrugged helplessly, frown almost permanent on his face. Rhapsodos only kept a smile, stepping to Hewley and offering a pat to the back, a sign of encouragement or an insult, he wasn’t sure.

“Yes..~” closing his eyes, his smile grew as held in his hands was a pink hard-covered book. Upon glancing at the material, his eyes softened, reading _: “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess. We seek it thus and take to the sky.”_

Ohhh. So, he was reading off a book… rather than a priest, he was merely an acolyte. An admirer of the content in the book, almost reading as if he was reciting a life’s mantra. 

He heard all the groans coming from the room, telling Sephiroth that this happened very, very often.

“C’mon Gen, not everyone is as interested in Loveless as you are..” Hewley commented, brows furrowing. 

“Yes, but I’m reading it to Angel here. You don’t mind, do you?” ignoring poor Hewley, Rhapsodos turned his attention to Sephiroth. “I’m sure you’ve never read it, and certainly..~ you haven’t had me read it to you.”

All he could do was shake his head. It was true that he hadn’t. In fact, he couldn’t remember reading an actual book in a while. He’s only read the movements of fellow soldiers in battle, battle plans and… that’s it.

Rhapsodos was not a shy boy, inching closer enough to remind the silver-haired boy of the first time he met the lad. No fear for his life, no hesitation to assistance, just a soft gaze and a lovely voice that should make a good career out of. That valour, that bravery, that boldness and certainty that he would not and could not be harmed by the silver-haired boy was what he appreciated most, igniting an interest to know who he is. 

That bud of interest growing more and more now. 

“Besides, I would very much dislike it if it’s not me who shows you the beauty of Loveless.”

Sephiroth smirked, lifting a finger to poke the boy’s nose and making sure he didn’t apply too much force, inch him away, letting out only a mutter, “cute” under his breath. The boy clearly heard that, eyes widening just a bit and putting no effort to resist.

He wanted to add a cherry on top. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Rhapsodos.”

Once again, Rhapsodos huffed in defeat. Now that was something he could tell his current chaperone: he had someone he could really enjoy time with, be it by toying or establishing an actual connection to.   
But moments are short-lived in school-time, he supposed. No one wanted to sit and watch it all play.

“Alright ladies, quit your flirting and get to practice,” the instructor stood up, heaving yet another sigh, “and Rhapsodos, recite another thing from Loveless and I’m going to firaga that sh.t book.”

Immediately, he whipped his face in her direction.

“With that materia? Oh please, you can only do a good fire 1 at most.” 

If that was true…

“Then how did you make so much fire?” Sephiroth then asked, returning to the wonder of that spell that was currently a bigger appeal than the pretty book that was read by.. well, as he said earlier, a pretty boy. Anyone could read a good book, but not everyone could make a level 1 device appear as the biggest weapon existing. 

Was he born with an efficiency to magic as he was with swordsmanship? 

“That’s just Gen being Gen, Sephiroth.” 

What seemed to be the first time ever, Sephiroth saw a smile make its way to Hewley’s face. It was a kind smile, one that was proud of his friend for showing off and speaking for a right he was entitled to. Those darker blue eyes full of a gleam that Sephiroth was going to label as admiration, as it resembled the stare people do when they think their friend can carry the world or drop down the freaking moon with an inferior spell. 

He made the weak look strong. That was beautiful in one way, an artistic work. 

Heck, even Sephiroth who was having a rather difficult time trying to understand the regularities of people and how they act in their day to day lives found that Hewley and Rhapsodos were people he wanted to be with.

If they were to accept him. With the way the auburn-haired male smiled often, be it a smirk or a small one, and with the way Hewley didn’t hesitate to stand and breathe the same air as he, there was a swell of hope for the possibility. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have/are having a great weekend.


	5. In my field of Paper Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little into Angeal's perspective. Past once again since it seems to be the part I do easily.  
> Another chapter of Angeal's and we go closer to the present time. 
> 
> Warning in this chapter would be mentions of child abuse. Maybe Genesis himself is a warning.. I don't really know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, when I intend to write only a 1k of the past, I end up going real far and drag it on. The story asks for more than what I had in my drafts.
> 
> I read the Q&A for Crisis Core and they mentioned that Gen’s family were actually pretty attached to him but he still ended up killing them, and how Gillian kinda blackmailed him to avoid being killed.. and gosh. I didn’t like that. It made Gen and Gillian sound a lot more petty than necessary. 
> 
> And at least, Gen was extremely petty by desperation and degradation that was throwing him into a downward spiral of insanity. I guess I feel bad for the fool, he gets his dream and gift of the goddess, but everyone’s dead—like if that was the price for his freedom. See, it’s hinted that he just wants to protect what Sephiroth and Angeal valued, as SOLDIER.. and gee. No wonder the lifestream spared him—or condemned him to live a long life of further suffering. Poor boy. 
> 
> I haven’t really settled with their ages.. you can see. This wasn’t supposed to have a lot of plot, but here we go. 
> 
> In chapter 1, I had Cloud as 19, Zack as 20, Gen, Seph and Geal to be about 22. That would make their past 8 years back. Zack and Cloud are doing College levels, so they’re doing post-undergraduate, like a masters or bachelors sort of thing.  
> Without further words, I hope you enjoy this segment.

\--

For all his life, he had someone who could tuck away his loneliness into a box and hide it from the world. 

His life is a.. what you could consider a child’s novel that had become a series with the ratings slightly raising with every release. There was not a soul to blame for the increase in restriction or rating as one would put it, it was better off called, “development”. 

Now, he would not consider it all happy accidents or any of that optimistic little sweet nothings. Life was not a polite one, it was not a benevolent goddess as his friend would put it, it was not a constellation of angels, but it was also not a spawn of the devil, not a place where it was filled with demons and cruelty.. it was a world with humans, pure unadulterated human beings who tend to do good and bad, neither pious nor evil. 

He too, was only a human, an average one at that. His Mum was a human along, a very loving and charitable human. By the logic of the world, his father had to be a human as well, even if he never met him before. 

He lived a humble life under the small village, a little community that had every villager know one another, express a friendly rapport with one another, some more than others. There was an abundance of Mother Nature’s blessings upon them, giving them fresh and lovely crops to live by, large trees to protect them from the sun’s sometimes harmful rays of heat and light, flowers that gave the imagery of stars upon the ground, colourful and beautiful. 

It filled his heart with joy.. how much the people cared for their gardens, as if they too were their children. Nurturing Mother Nature’s children when she could not, and in reward, she offered so much he couldn’t list it off his little fingers. His Mum taught him with her modest ways to be eternally grateful for every little favour they received, and he poured his heart into each prayer of gratitude. 

Even so.. every child had their needs—no, they had wants. Sometimes, it was tiring to simply share words with leaflets of green, chlorophyll filled beings that hadn’t spoken the human language. He adored them greatly, but there were days where he sat near the self-reliant beings, with his knees tucked to his chest and head on his knees wondering if he was growing insane.

It sure felt that way when the community had many children who frolicked the yards carelessly, stomping upon the plants and causing the boy to find tears shedding from his eyes at the sight of the injured children of nature who couldn’t fight back the oblivion caused by an innocent step of a fellow child. 

He found that no one truly understood the pain that seared through his heart when those kids in the fields had no care for what were doing to the bushes, the flora they plucked to impress a bird or a fellow lad, how it was the same as his limbs ripping apart. How he had shaken up at the beheaded green beside him. He didn’t care for what they had to say about him, weeping foolishly over what they had eaten daily. 

It wasn’t as if he was upset by the fact that it was consumed, he was upset that it wasn’t without a hint of concern that they stepped, crushed those ungrown vegetables, the fruits they shook off their trees so haphazardly, treating the blessings of the Almighty as if it was nothing important. Didn’t they ever think that they were not entitled to nature but were privileged to have it? A storm could come and destroy it all before it would be consumed in such a.. 

Such a dishonourable way.

He was scowling as he wept to himself, shoulders shaking and arms wrapped tight around his legs, shrinking himself as much as he possibly could, as far as his body could go. He cried, he sobbed, he trembled prayers to protect those that provide for them all, for people to learn the true value of what they want. 

All they ever wanted, all they ever needed was here in their arms. They should learn to love and appreciate what was given, not allow their children to trample upon it as if it didn’t matter. 

Another reason for his fear of insanity was how he couldn’t really bond with anyone. There was no one he wanted to associate with that was in his age group. He was growing an unreasonable hatred in the deep crevices of his soul for those who couldn’t hold themselves accountable and correct their wrongs—harming Mother Nature who trusted her children to them. He only spoke to his mother and to the plants he found were more understanding than any person that spoke their garbage. 

But that was a mere imaginative satisfaction for a seven-year-old boy. It was only a matter of time before he caves in, wishing to be with someone who could keep him company as there were none who could understand what he had inside of him. There was no child in this small village that could say, ‘I feel the same’, when it came to the love for agriculture and the need to deeply etched in him or her to protect it.

Today as he spoke, he felt that particular need. To not be alone in this boulevard of broken dreams, for someone with hands as small as his to envelope and lift him to his feet, smiling ear to ear out of mutual need for friendship. He knew it wouldn’t happen, for they knew him as “goody two-shoes Angeal” whose name was pretty much a letter away from Angel. 

They have incurred his wrath when he witnessed their lack of care to the harmless flowers they plucked off for imprisoning them in vases where their roots couldn’t give them the life they need. He earnt an earful from foolish parents who scolded the boy for punching a brat for their selfish actions. 

At the remembrance of harm, he felt a very hard and painful projectile slam at his head before he heard it thud to the ground. Judging by the weak impact on the ground that took the object, he figured it wasn’t a weapon but a fruit. A fruit he once admired at the manor of Banora’s landlord.

Banora White. 

“Dumb-apples” he called them for their selfish resistance. He had always wanted to try one for it was known to be so delicious, so satiating it salivated the mouths of many, but none received what they so desired.  
For the owner of these apples were not one you would want to come across. One does not simply take from the mayor without a price hefty. And Angeal lacked the funds, finding his lifestyle to be one of the most traditional, frugal and simple, a pint of nothing compared to the Mayor. 

Rubbing his head in pain, he shook the incoming tears brimming in his eyes, forcing himself to gaze up at the cruel somebody who threw an apple so prestigious and so delicious. To his surprise, or lack thereof, it was a young boy his age who frowned upon him with rather pretty features. 

For one, he had the prettiest faint blue eyes that glanced at him as a cretin, a peasant in front of an aristocrat—that he may be, given he was the son of the Mayor. Auburn-hair so fiery and dark in direct contrast to that pale skin and eyes, so well-cared he could smell the aroma, his scent so clean and fresh from miles away. Dressed in a cotton white long-sleeved shirt, around the collar a silk black bow-tie wrapped protectively, held together with a sapphire big as their eyes. Black suspenders held black shorts in place that came up to his knees, legs covered in long wine red socks that extended.. Angeal wasn’t sure how far they went, ending it with black dress shoes that didn’t appear as worn as Angeal’s. 

Strangely, he’s never seen this boy hang around the children of Banora. Perhaps, his standard of friends was so high, no one met that threshold. How beautiful and soft he appeared, so moon-kissed and yet with hair that had the sun’s loving rays glare in envy, with eyes that put the sky to shame, clouding its sight.

Those pouting lips parted with a smile, and Angeal found himself being spoken to.

“Well, are you going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself all day?” that voice suited such features, so regal and yet tender, unexpected by the way he carried himself. So prim and almost princely. “I thought you knew better than to waste gifts of Mother Nature.”

Finding himself dazed and focused on the boy’s features, he left the apple forgotten until the said child knelt to reach for it, small fingers latching so carefully to the fruit and lifting it up, cupping it with his hands. What he didn’t expect was that fruit to be extended to him by the smiling boy, eyes gleaming.

“Come on, have it. It looks as pitiful as you do.”

“I.. I can’t.” he managed to rasp out of his tear-ridden wail, shaking his head and wishing he could bury himself further, arms tightening around his legs to draw closer. The child’s smile dimmed, and he continued, attempting to reason, “it’s yours. Your father wouldn’t want you to give it to just anybody.”

At this, the lowered smile rose once again, curving up with a giggle.

“D’you think I care what my old man says? I would be stuck in the room, struck black’n blue in the back by him for being ‘dainty’.” As he worded ‘dainty’, he let one hand run a caress around his own face, accentuating the horrible use of that word. Angeal couldn’t help but gasp at the thought of such a boy hurt by his own parents.

Gillian Hewley would never allow her hand to ever strike him, and here he was moping as if he had been beaten.

“But that’s not the point,” auburn-hair swayed as he shook his head, eyes lowering for a moment before glancing back up at Angeal. “What’s your name, it’s likely you know mine, but finesse…” he waved his hand in the air dramatically, a slow and dismissive gesture, “it’s Genesis.”

“I’m Angeal, Angeal Hewley.” He almost shouted, an odd sense of comfort and eagerness raising through him as he smiled. He was being spoken to by the richest young child who behaved as if there was nothing but scum in the village save for the wonderful fruit he’d grown. Befriending one that everyone wanted, children and adults alike, but envied with a passion for all that they believed he had. 

Who knew his first almost friend was going to be the Genesis Rhapsodos!

Finally, he let his body uncurl, knees coming down and touching the ground softly as his hands came to a rest on the bends. 

“Angeal.. I like that name very much.” Angeal smiled back, finding out that he very much liked seeing the boy smile. 

“Genesis sounds very cool too.” 

He earnt a stare that reflected nothing, a contrast to the natural upcurve of his lips that showed amusement. Perhaps, it was more mirthful, sardonically mirthful as though he hadn’t taken it as a compliment. A shocking factor from one that all would call too haughty and accepting of praise. 

“Take the apple, Angeal Hewley. _I don’t simply give it to just anybody_.”

Rather than allowing the raven-haired boy to accept the fruit, the auburn-haired boy made it his responsibility to hand it to him, uncurling a balled fist and quite impatiently wrapped the purple fruit on it. In that moment, the two turned their faces to the sound of an older lady’s call. His mother Gillian to be exact.

“’Geal, come on inside for lunch!” her face peeked from the small brown wooden door, glancing at Angeal and Genesis with a smile. Both returned the sentiment, Angeal smiling politely at her before letting his eyes roam to his new friend whose eyes were unreadable, gazing at her as she was doing something he’s never seen anyone do.

It hinted that his mother had never called him so affectionately as she did, he felt the tenderness of her demeanor in that one gesture. 

“Come with me, Genesis. Mother wouldn’t mind, she loves company.”

Genesis’ questioned gaze darted to him almost immediately, and Angeal was left to ponder at how it must feel to be alien to all this. Was it the fact that it appeared primitive to him, was he fascinated, discovering a need deep inside of himself for this same care? It would no big shock if that was the case—the bigger shock was that he hadn’t already have that. 

It was the first time he has met the aristocratic son, and he never guessed that he was the closest definition of an unloved child. 

“Are.. are you sure? Surely, you don’t want a stranger in the house…”

How hushed and solemn he sounded, responding as a lost child. Angeal gave him a beaming smile in return, wishing that it would melt the ice just a bit.

“Of course, we’re friends. This is proof of it.” He brought the apple to his view, remembering his exact repeat of his own words that Genesis’ family do not simply give such prestigious fruit to just anybody, and the boy confirmed that the moment he was offered the fruit. 

Why did he seem so bewildered about it? Did he expect more reluctance? More questioning before they could truly say they were more than acquaintances..? Now, Angeal began to hope that the boy was a man of his word and not a jester who plays with the feelings of others.

It was rather fortunate that those bright blue eyes spoke better than that silver tongue and honeyed tone. He’d never seen such openness within the windows to their souls as he did with Genesis.

“If you insist.” The auburn-haired boy shielded his eyes, shutting them for a moment with a smile so shy, it was childlike—more of someone his age than the clever and slightly condescending smiles he’s seen him do. 

“Come along, Genesis,” he rose to his feet, dusting the navy tunic he wore, straightening the fabric so that it didn’t cling to his pants all messy. It would be quite embarrassing to appear so disheveled in front of someone who was the essence of soap and cleanliness. “I think Mum can make pie out of this apple.”

“I meant it to be only for you, Angeal.” Auburn-brows furrowed as he pouted cutely. “Not used to being given gifts, eh?”

Angeal only smiled brightly, blinding as the sun with a hint of a shy snark. 

“I like to share my gifts, Genesis. I guess you’d call that being frugal.” He brought his hand up in a pinching gesture, “just a bit, of course.”

Shaking his head, the pretty boy smiled and followed him to his home, where Angeal, with the energy of a five-year-old child who received a chunk of gold, told his Mummy of how he made a new friend. A very beautiful and opaque friend.

\--

When he received a letter with a red and gold stamp, his whole life blew before him. Those thirteen years just flew by.

All of it spun round and round as a clever worker under the wheel, weaving textures that coloured their world. To say he was excited, amazed, proud.. none of them conveyed the explosion in his heart, that euphoria unexplainable. To say the very least, he felt as though he could bounce around the walls and not find an end point because he was full of that much energy.

He, the happy, low-classed, campy farm boy Angeal Hewley was invited to ShinRa Academy, the ShinRa Academy!

His letter entailed his success at proving himself to be capable of entering their grounds and attaining a higher education with the potential to become a protector of the world they so cherished. With someone with as much spirit and motivation to protect the children of nature, he was given a chance to enhance his skill to actually do it. His knowledge was said to be needing a little work, but nothing that couldn’t be honed with their skilled instructors and effective teachings. 

He also had sponsorship from one of the staff members to enter the Academy, and that came as a big wow! Angeal was certain his family was one of the smallest, if not insignificant ones in Banora and yet, they recognized him over the rest of the potential kids? Oh. em. Gee.

He couldn’t wait to share this news with his friend, Genesis. 

That boy, without a doubt, was accepted to the Academy as well. Angeal’s seen his work, his booming success on getting Banora recognized through his victory in an agricultural contest through the Mideel area. He won first place with his dumbapple juice and received many interviews from people of the Nibel area, Midgar, Grasslands… Angeal couldn’t remember how many articles were written about the boy’s extraordinary talents that it almost, almost reached the big word as one of the students of the ShinRa Academy had:

That prodigal boy, Sephiroth, the Silver Wonder. 

Anyways, after telling an overjoyed Mum who hugged him tight and told him to be sure to write letters to her when he moves into the Boarding School, wiping little tears from her eyes as he would have to move into the Midgar area, not be in a walking space anymore. He began to weep at the thought of not seeing his Mother, but the fact that he would be able to write to her every day and send all his loving to her took it away. 

He wasn’t alone, just far. 

Racing to the gardens belonging to the infamous Rhapsodos, he hesitated to enter the place as he’s never gone near it in fear of meeting Genesis’ mother who—by villagers’ words, not Genesis’, was a stern woman. Well actually, the boy did hint it every now and then, but made no ill word, furrowing his brows and often telling Angeal that sharing the simplicity of his lifestyle and with Gillian Hewley was much better.

It had heart that the Rhapsodos family did not have. 

The smallest favour was appreciated in the Hewley family. It was cozy, a little nook full of love and care, felt like a true mother’s embrace to a wounded child, the father’s encouragement and strengthening of the said child. While Angeal didn’t have a father that the two were aware of, the auburn-haired child mentioned time and time again that it was fine since Gillian created a beautiful, well-respected boy by her own hands. 

Angeal wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry for Genesis out of pity or out of the warmth overflowing at the fact that the boy could even see his Mother was one of the most important beings in his life. All he knew was that he wanted to squish that little boy in his arms until he croaked for his life.

The aforementioned boy was sitting by the Banora White tree that earnt the family a bigger reputation due to his work in the contest, perched on his lap were a couple of books as he scribbled with a quill in his right hand. His knees tucked to his chest, and eyes darted in deep concentration as if nothing else mattered.   
Even so, there was a chinkling of a reaction, a little perk up when Angeal’s footsteps came to sound, and the boy smiled.

“Angeal, still so hesitant, I see.”

As of late, Genesis had been a bit more secluded, so solitary until Angeal’s presence gave him a reason to smile. These six years with his friend were something Angeal never knew he would crave so much and was proven wrong by a long shot. Genesis was slightly older than him with a lifestyle varied managed to weave into a little brother he’s always wanted. The boy only gazed at him with such warmth in his eyes, so familial despite their differences.

How he aged as a beautiful glass of red wine, prim and lovelier than when he was seven, where he still had those chubby cheeks and tiny figure. He still dwarfed over Angeal who grew stronger and a bit rugged through farm work and heavy-lifting to train for a potential enlistment, and yet, had the sweet softness of any thirteen-year-old boy. Genesis was a child who belonged in an artistic portrait, painted into immortality, as Angeal belonged to an autobiography to serve as motivation to the youth: to work hard and persevere. 

“Genesis..” he wasn’t sure how to deliver the message to him. Should he ask if he got a letter from ShinRa Academy? Should he even mention it? All his bits of reluctance passed with a gentle laugh of the older male who laid his quill to rest, glancing up with those bright blue eyes, so light as the sky in dawn. 

“So, when are you going to tell me that you have also received an invitation to ShinRa Academy?” when Angeal blinked, he shook his head, “as I’ve said, hesitant, ‘Geal.”

“I can safely assume you’ve got the acceptance as well?”

A small nod, and his left hand raised to show Angeal the marked envelope with a slightly growing grin. In this moment, that excitement that left him at the fear of having no one to accompany him to Midgar sprung back with the force of a dart hitting the board, he beamed at Genesis who dropped his letter to stop him from lunging at him.

“Wait, ‘Geal don’t!” but it was not enough to cease the teenager from practically pouncing at him, holding him as a mother bear would—as Mother Gillian would when relieved that her children were safe. Safe as the purple marks on the auburn-haired boy’s wrists or back did not go unnoticed. It didn’t matter how high the turtleneck was, once her eyes caught on rings of purple, she was ready to slay a man. 

It took everything to convince both Angeal and Gillian that it was an accident, a reaction that roused out of an uncontrollable fright. 

“I’m so happy, Gen! I thought I was going to be a goner, all alone to the Academy.” Snuggling so close, Angeal rested his head on the crook of his neck, backing only slightly to keep the boy’s books from falling off him, splaying onto the ground all dusty and whatnot. Genesis rolled his eyes, running a small hand through raven locks. 

“You thought I had no interest in ShinRa Academy? You goof..” and Angeal heard the playful tone in his tease, the giggle in his insult, “it’s a perfect getaway for trash as us.”

“You’re not trash..” the younger boy found himself heaving a sigh, preferring the careless self-praise rather than derogation. It didn’t have a good look on the pretty boy who should be proud of being on top of the world. 

“Mother and Father were quite overjoyed to hear I would be moving out,” Genesis continued running a hand around his hair as one would to a pet, affectionately smiling as he glanced at the head of black hair, “they finally handed Rapier to me.”

“Rapier.. wow. That’s the family heirloom like the Buster Sword..”

To his awe, he barked out a bitter laugh.

“Not really, it’s an old haunt to them. Something only I could love.”

Angeal lifted his head to the discomfort of the other, gazing at azure eyes before taking notice of the crimson blade that stood, leaning on the trunk right beside the two. Following his gaze, Genesis smiled before tossing Angeal’s head back on his shoulder.

“I want to be out of this sh.. this place, ‘Geal.”

Angeal closed his eyes and basked in the warmth that the older boy provided so naturally despite biting words, finding appreciation in the boy’s need to hold his tongue and refrain from using foul language. To hear him swear was surely something, for Angeal expected himself to be one who strings bad words and getting a tap on the wrist by the rich child. 

_To be free_. 

“And we’ll be gone soon.” He had a bubble of hope that it sounded encouraging rather than a cryptic saying. Genesis had too much of that as it is. 

But with that little smile he got, it was the latter. 

_“One day we will meet the end.. when that final bell ceases to chime.”_

Angeal furrowed his brows, smiling sadly. “Was that from one of your books here?”

He got a shake of his head. 

“I came up with that, it’s a sort of.. poem.” How bashful he appeared, shrinking to himself and pulling his book close.

“A poem, really? I want to read it!” Angeal truly did. Anything that Genesis had came up with—foul or prissy were works of art. He had a penchant for writing and creating artistic works.. he’s seen those little doodles of flowers and plants he did the other years ago. 

“It’s not finished, ‘Geal.” Well, there was always something new to learn. Genesis, while confident in every detail of his pretty face and slender figure, was not all confident and assured about his art. “It’s kinda… messy.”

“Then show me when you’re comfortable.” He was not going to be those crooning fools who bother the creators of wonders. Genesis smiled in gratitude, much lighter than the smirks he often gave.

“Yeah.. in that time there will be many who would share that moment.”  
What he meant, he didn’t want to ask. It was enough that he learnt that Genesis was a writer, and not some person who wanted to be studied so thoroughly, torn apart as the poems that his heart adored. 

Reeling back and sitting beside him, he drew his knees to his chest in a similar manner as Genesis and leant his head on the pale trunk of the Banora White tree. 

“What do you think it’s going to be like.. going to Midgar and all?”

His friend took a moment, calm blue eyes gazing ahead at nowhere in particular before meeting the younger boy’s.

“We have a high possibility of dying.” At the down-curve of Angeal’s lips, he brought a finger up, “figuratively, physically or psychologically, of course.”

“A psychological death..?”

The boy nodded, joining his friend in resting his head on the soft bark, closing his eyes. “I like to think.. there have been mental deaths.”

“But if they mentally died.. they wouldn’t be able to—” they might as well be dead physically too.

“Angeal.. it doesn’t mean all have.” Opening one eye, he glowered at his friend. “Just one. One person is dead for sure.”

The raven-haired boy didn’t want to admit it, but he was rather afraid to know who it was. It couldn’t be the one they revered as their hero, that intelligent, tactful, resourceful, clever—.

“You think out loud, ‘Geal.” He smiled wryly. “But I do think one of the students are dead. We’ve only heard written word about him, never really seen him for who he is. Trusting the unseen, as they call it.”

“I dunno Gen.. shouldn’t he be the most alive?”

The auburn-haired boy blinked a couple of times, before closing his eyes with a laugh. For some reason, it sounded so broken for someone so young, so hopeless, so.. pained. It might’ve been the second time he laughed straight from his heart.

“That’s possible!”

Angeal smiled at him small, eyes in silent observation of his friend who—while growing very well, still had a tinge of something that was lacking. He was vibrant, knowledgeable and sometimes very silly, but there was something that lingered whenever he was in the presence of his Mother, that little moment where he would try to match with their dreary and dull lifestyle. He stood tall and quite lovely, had a presence as if he had a fire in his heart that spread over him protectively as a phoenix around its offspring, radiating heat that they welcomed on a particularly cold day.

Strangely dormant in the summer time. 

Today, there was no display of that scowl he usually had when people who were not Angeal’s family approached him. There were no snide remarks on anything or anywhere—not that that was all he did, but there was that naturally passionate nature he had, that fiery adamance that stood by him, intimidating people from stepping a couple of feet close to him. 

It was as if he too, was afraid. Afraid as Angeal was. 

“Good riddance to Banora and all it has.” Genesis snorted, raising his hand up into the air, waving it as if saying goodbye to the sky that held the land. “We embark from one prison cell to another.”

Gosh, he really was quite morbid today. Angeal grew tired of it. 

“Prison cells? Gen, we’re not going to prison, we’re going to shine! We are going to make our mark in the world!” he stretched his hand and joined his friend’s, “and we’re going to do it together, as heroes!”

“Heroes?”

That blink of surprise did not go unnoticed by the raven-haired boy.

“Yeah, we’re going to protect our loved ones as they protected us, we’ll become men of honour and candour. People will respect you, Gen. They’ll respect us! They’ll even make fanclubs of us and go on with ridiculous notions such as fandom wars.”

Another blink and a widen of blue eyes.

“We’re not going to die, Gen. I won’t let you, so you better not let me, eh?”

He squeezed that pale hand in his, offering that reassurance the boy seemed to have absent in his life unless it was Mother Gillian bestowing it upon him like a blessing. Now, it was his turn. They won’t be seeing her for a while, who knows what they’ll have to do to keep it all together.

Fear was not an option, not a choice. If they were scared, they were going to face it head-on. If they were treated like crap, they were going to flip it with integrity, let no one step on them the way they trampled over the flowers and plants. 

“Is that a promise, ‘Geal?”

Meeting those eyes with nothing but determination, he smiled valiantly.

“Yeah, do you promise, Genesis?”

Light blue didn’t meet his for a couple of seconds, seemingly unable to shake off the astonishment he had fallen into. A little readjustment later, he leveled his gaze and smiled.

“I can’t let anyone kill you, Angeal. You have to find an honourable way to go, alright?”

“That’s a promise!”

For that moment, it did feel like they were superhuman, moving from one region to another with nothing but each other against the world they were going to face, the one that was going to try with all its efforts to break them down. 

If he had Genesis by his side to be his fierce blade, he would make sure and be his shield, allow no one to control them like puppets.

They will laugh, love, live free and sing in these temporal days. And Angeal was determined to make sure of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have a great weekend.  
> Twitter and Tumblr are both @Amareinmortis.


	6. The two kids of Banora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angeal and a wee bit of Genesis’ perspective, just before they found Sephiroth. Currently platonic Banorashipping.  
> Continues previous chapter.
> 
> I don't think it needs a warning, it's just soft. (That has become a word I overuse..)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some [ ASG doodles~](https://twitter.com/AmareInMortis/status/1302298422163181568?s=19) (link in words..~)  
> I have to say, I was listening to a live duet of Gackt and Kami performing [ “Regret”](https://youtu.be/y63US9_YET0) , that influenced half the writing.  
> I want to keep it in a sombre kind of light. It’s dim, but not dark that you can’t see anything.  
> A pretty long chapter this one is. 7K despite the usual 4-5K I aim for in this book.

\--

If there was anything his Mum and Dad taught him, it was to carry yourself in a way that leaves no room for regret. No mistakes are made when it is done in a manner of service, of honour, with integrity, and all that was humanly possible. 

  
If he held his pride and exuded it in a way that would serve his people, that’s all what mattered. 

  
And Angeal was very often, an honourable and prideful boy. He didn’t allow himself to indulge in sorry tomfoolery, sulk about being weaker than others or have a need to be at the top of the world. Where he will be, even if he dies a nobody’s death, breathed the same air as someone lower than him, he didn’t mind as long as he did what he was born to. 

  
If he was slain for his friends, he couldn’t find it in him to complain. 

  
When he heard the morning speeches during the orientation, there was a flame that burned in his soul, the strength that pumped through him, smile so bright he was radiating happiness that would put the sun’s rays of light to shame. He absorbed every word like a sponge, so eager and agreeable to everything. 

  
He was overjoyed that ShinRa Academy shared the same beliefs as he did, and they were going to do—with all the effort they could ever lay upon a person to make those dreams come true, he was ecstatic. He has come to the right place, a place made for him, just for him, and it was going to be amazing.

  
He even had a friend who was going to walk those same steps with him, trudge through those halls and terrains, march proudly and with power in their stance. 

  
But, he had to admit, turning his face to see his partner’s reaction during the ceremony was a mistake. Upon sight of his friend’s reaction, his heart sank. The boy had not a shred of interest shared, almost listlessly staring as if he was too tired to truly focus, the words not reaching his soul as it did for the raven-haired boy. His lips were pressed thin, eyes lowered and poorly nodding his head to veil his lack of attention. 

  
Angeal didn’t quite mind if he really wasn’t up for being here, but what poured worry up him was the assumption that his friend wasn’t feeling well. Despite donning the uniform they were given, it was as if Genesis wasn’t even present here, just a carcass sitting beside him—or a struggling child when they were ill.

  
Angeal reached for the hand that he now noticed was clenching the fabric of the arm-rest, fingertips creating holes on the material if they were long and sharp enough. Forming crescents upon the polyester was enough for him to reach for that hand, rub circles with his thumb.

  
He found azure eyes joining his, glancing down with a small gleam, grateful for the gesture as well as deeming it unnecessary.

  
“’Geal, ‘m fine.. just tired.”

  
The smile that came his way was tight-lipped, but Angeal was more concerned of his well-being than his attentiveness to what may not be as heart-felt as it was for him. Everyone’s different, and it was completely understandable. 

  
“Tired should be dozing off, Genesis…”

  
Was Genesis hurt in some way? When they bid their farewells to their family, was it possible that the Rhapsodos family were a little too excited to have their son go? Worse, did they physically harm him? The auburn-haired male was not the most conspicuous when it came to cover up for them. His everyday billowed sleeves that came down his palm left room to ponder. Who wore full sleeves when it came to be working the fields knowing it would get dirty with prints of grass and soil? White long sleeves at that!

  
The sweat that marked down his unblemished face was another indicator that the boy was facing difficulty. His breathing was regular, but struggle was written all over him, the clenching on the armrest, the tight-lipped smiles and listless eyes..

  
“It is a little hot in here..” he admitted in a whisper, more hushed than earlier. Angeal’s hand tightened around his, smiling small. 

  
“I’ll take you to the dorm when it’s all done.”

As soon as the ceremony had concluded, the two sped through the halls to reach their dorm. The haste they made was reminiscent to a worn-out soldier who was about to pass out, using all his reserve energy to at least make it to the room before letting his weakness overcome him.

  
Angeal didn’t question it knowing Genesis was so focused on getting back before any question could be asked, and share of information could hold, but the nagging feeling of wanting to help his friend bit at him. When the door swung open and the boy flopped on the bed to the left, Angeal noted that he was gone in seconds. Immediately, he was asleep, completely zoned out and away from the world. 

  
It resembled a dead man’s rest.

  
It almost gave the thought of being unable to see his best friend ever again, that he was not going to wake up after his soul had decided to leave the body he was rather comfortable with hosting. The small rise and fall of his chest were a sole reminder that he was still alive.

  
And golly, Angeal must’ve hung out too long with Genesis, his morbid ways were rubbing off on him. 

  
Shaking his head as if it would get rid of what was on his mind, he crept closer to the boy sleeping on his bed. The two were roommates in this current time while their rooms were arranged—apparently, ShinRa’s Administrative staff did not expect such a turn-out in students, they didn’t have enough rooms to put each student in. 

  
Or it was something for the younger staff? 

  
Right.. that’s why. As they were still in the High-school curriculum, they were roomed together until they reached the age of majority where they could choose their dwelling. It was easier to monitor the youth, Angeal had to agree. They were still completely dependent on the Academy for living arrangements, so they made do with it. 

  
There was no one else he wanted to room with to start with. 

  
When he was close enough to reach, he ran a hand through auburn-locks, shifting them from his rather clammy forehead and checked for a fever. It was strange that it was only now that he found the boy’s body so damned warm, heat welling all around him in a non-arousing sort of way. He felt like a furnace!

  
And yet, that was it. 

  
His body was undergoing an overheating period, and he wasn’t sure what else he could do than run a cold bath for him. 

  
And thus, that was what he did. He ran a cold towel over his head and neck, finding the boy melting to the comfort as he proceeded to remove the uniform to change into loosely put pajamas. As he was removing the blazer and shirt, he found that Genesis had yet another shirt, thin and black under his dress shirt as well as long maroon socks under his boxer-shorts. 

  
Perhaps he was feeling over the weather due to dressing too much in September. As the dog-days of August blew them by, September arrived with a final blaze of glory, blaring flames that burned their skin if they were not properly guarded. Angeal couldn’t keep his blazer on and here Genesis was, wearing three flipping layers of clothes? 

Geez, no wonder he was clammy. 

  
Finding the need to remove them, his fingers reached the hems of the shirt before snapping back. It was far too likely that Genesis didn’t want him to see what was under the clothes—no matter how hot it was outside.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, he didn’t bother with putting his pajamas on, leaving him in those black coverings—he refuses to call clothes since they were only there to keep odd gazes away.

  
Leaving the cloth on the nape of his neck, he flipped open the manual to the PHS they received a couple of days ago. It was rather strange that they had to visit the infirmary as soon as their flight to Midgar reached ShinRa Academy, rather off-putting that they had to be administered with what they called ‘immunity shots’.

  
Apparently, there was no room for illness in ShinRa Academy. 

  
Angeal didn’t really feel much different after the injection administered by the short, stocky doctor who made sure they had their shots taken, claiming it was something absolutely necessary for their growth and survival.

  
Though, it had the boy thinking he was just given drugs. 

  
He wondered if his Mother knew what it was, knowing it was only she who could consent to it—he was just fourteen years old; he couldn’t possibly agree to it. He just hoped that it was right to do.. he trusts his Mother more than the people here, and if she was alright with it, then be gone, objections. 

  
Genesis was given the same or similar injection, the two boys making sure they stood by each other for moral support. Then again.. they only gave him one dose, for the auburn-haired boy, the doctor appeared to have more muddled in his mind, confusion writhing his features as he poured two shots through him. Each time, Genesis just stared at him, waiting for him to do his job so he could read a book. 

  
When the auburn-haired boy had to have a second dose, he reached for his companion’s hand as he sat on the medicating bed. It was only then he really noticed Genesis’ fear. His hand couldn’t stop fidgeting when it met Angeal’s, his lower lip chewed on and eyes distant. It was one of the first few times he’s found Genesis afraid. 

  
His Mother Gillian often told her son that the boy was rather vulnerable, much like a stray kitten, claws up only out of a fright that he would be attacked or worse, abandoned when he found a home to be in. 

  
Angeal gave that small hand a little squeeze, earning a smile from the slightly older boy. Mother Gillian put her trust and love onto a good child. 

  
“The medication probably didn’t work the first time..” he attempted to reassure, to assuage the nerves that were bubbling up inside, “you did have a weak immune system, Gen.”

  
“You don’t think they’re trying to speed up the killing process, Angeal?” golly, why was it that the auburn-haired boy who radiated such life in his features speak of death so often? Supposed he answered himself; it was a juxtaposition. 

  
“If that is the case, I’ll kill them.”

  
At Angeal’s bold statement, Genesis’ eyes widened. 

  
“You couldn’t.. that’s not right. It’s not honourable to kill someone without truly knowing what they are doing.” Angeal felt the boy’s hand tighten around his as he let out an outburst, facial features doing the screaming rather than his tone that stayed to that gentle hush. 

  
“It would be honourable if it is to protect my friend.” While unmentioned, it was through his eyes that Genesis heard the words, ‘only friend’.

  
“Angeal.. don’t be stupid. You can’t drop your life for something like that.” It was rather funny how Angeal couldn’t tell whether Genesis was happy to hear that he was willing to throw everything aside for him, or disappointed that he could be so foolish as to throw away everything that he worked for, just for a friend.

Sure, it may have been unwise, it was imprudent, but a promise was a promise. Such is the weight to carry.

  
“Alright, but if something goes awry, you’re going to tell me and we’ll have the bastards fired!” pouting, he made sure his words were strict and clear, something the auburn-haired boy couldn’t ignore no matter how careless he was about his well-being. That little brat.. if he thinks of dying on him…

  
Genesis closed his eyes, smiling softly. “Noted.” 

Of course, Angeal to put the pieces himself: Genesis lied to him.

  
He was alright before they made it to Midgar, when they were in the helicopter pointing at the ground and telling each other of how far they were, the distance they covered, and how Mother Gillian’s home seemed smaller and smaller as they went on, how Genesis was eager to see the same happen to his own home.

When they were guided through some places in Midgar, the boy was in good shape, pointing at some stores that they’ve passed by, telling Angeal that he was going to visit the shopping center once they were on break, and earning a roll of his eyes.

  
“You already have two closets full of clothes, Genesis. What more do you need?”

  
And Genesis’ jest, “the whole world, Angeal,” before he added, “I want to buy some costumes for future performances.”

  
That had Angeal raising both arched brows and happily exclaiming, “you’re finally going to publish your poems?” with Genesis answering with a smile of his own, correcting him.

  
“Not publish as poems but sing them.”

  
No wonder he had a large black box to go along his suitcases, Rapier being strapped onto his back. It was a keyboard he had from a couple of years ago. 

  
Angeal couldn’t possibly refuse tagging along him if the boy was making preparations for something he too, looked forward to. 

  
“What’re your plans?” the boy turned to him, eyes lingering with nothing but pure interest in what the raven-haired boy intended to do while they started their pseudo “new life” at the ShinRa Academy, in Midgar where it was more of a urbanized community, a vast change of scenery from the natural and rural Banora. 

  
“Me? I’m thinking of growing more plants..” when he heard the small chuckle from his friend, he smiled back, “they put me at ease.”

  
“Yes yes, Geal..”

  
“When we’re busy doing our own thing, at least it’ll keep us company.” He elaborated, trying to wipe that smirk off the auburn-haired boy’s face, impossible task or not. Angeal Hewley will commit to it. 

  
“Yes, but they have friends to ignore us with: the goddamn bugs.” Raising his chin up, he let out an indignant huff. “I don’t want our room to be full of ‘em.”

  
Smile growing, Angeal jested, “come on, Gen. They’re also friends.. they share the love for plants.”  
At this, the boy scoffed. “Yes, and I hate them. They splat all over my books and my skin. I don’t want to go pizza-face just because I’ve been to a strawberry field.”

  
Angeal broke into a fit of laughter finding nothing but disapproval in his friend’s features. The smirk was gone though, replaced by a frown his way before he proceeded to act as if his younger friend didn’t exist. If he wasn’t used to that kind of behaviour, he would’ve felt as though he lost a friend, thankfully, that was just how Genesis behaved when he found his point was missed. 

  
Come another minute, he would smile again at him, finding something to pick on and gather that reassurance that, ‘haha, I won this one, at least’.

  
“We should go for some clothes, Angeal. You can’t keep wearing those grubby tunics your Mum gave you.”  
And Angeal would sigh with a smile, “but I don’t need them so long as these do their job, Gen.”

  
“No frugality when you’re hanging around me!” to emphasize his point, he flicked auburn-locks that shone lovingly under the light they barely had, accentuating his pretty and stylish features. “Heck, I’m paying so you better choose amazing stuff.”

  
“You can’t…” he was alright with having to pick more clothes that were not run down and worn out, but to spend someone else’s money on it.. that never sat well with him. Genesis didn’t have any qualms against buying expensive and unnecessary items, Angeal couldn’t let himself do the same.

  
It seemed that the boy was quite serious about his claim, stopping in his tracks of exploring the town in favour of glowering at Angeal, pointing a thin finger at him. 

  
“No buts, Mister! Mummy Gillian told me to take good care of you while she’s away, so I’m going to treat the everliving hell out of you.” Lowering his glower, he continued with a restrained laugh, “you can only say _‘thank you, Gen dearest’_ , alright?”

  
And Angeal had to, squishing as much love as he could in the mimicry. “Thank you, Gen dearest.”

  
“That’s right. Your Gen is doing you and your Mum a favour, take it well.” Turning back to what was ahead, he shared a smiled with his friend, “if your Mum needs money, tell her to ask my Daddy-kins.”

  
“Your.. what?” 

  
Now, don’t misunderstand. Angeal knew he meant his father, but coming in such a way from a boy who valued his honeyed speech and eloquent wording.. it was either strangely intimate, or just silly. 

  
“My father, he’s got all the money Banora needs. If she needs a grain or two, I’ll put in a personal favour for it.” He couldn’t tell if the boy was joking or not, knowing he didn’t have a very close relationship to his family. It was peculiar, were they just a bit authoritative or were they truly unloving. 

  
Genesis didn’t help making it sound both as a place where he got every material need but lacked the emotional attachment to the people he resided with. He only spoke with the Rhapsodos on rare occasion and each time it was when they were asking if he’s seen their son somewhere, passing the curfew he was set to. Angeal often seen worry in their eyes, love for their son that was not reflected in the older boy. 

  
Could people fake what was written on the windows to the soul? Perhaps.. he really was naïve as Genesis once called him. 

  
“She wouldn’t ask, you know that..”

  
“I know.” The smile on his soft face was wistful, wry and sorrowful, “that’s where you got it, ‘Geal. However, it won’t stop me from wanting you guys to sometimes.. rely on me. I’m there..”

Angeal found his first regret that afternoon. 

  
It’s no wonder Genesis lies to him. This lack of reliance on the older boy compels him to do the same and keep it all holed up to himself, shrugging it off as it would have him feel weak to turn to the other for help when it is not reciprocated. Angeal did rely on him, more than the boy thinks. 

  
He relies on him to be his friend, his partner in this new life. For he didn’t want to be alone another time, he wasn’t sure how he was going to stand if he did in a place where he had no idea where North and South stood. 

\--

When the auburn-haired boy awoke, he found his friend on his bed, asleep. It was rather dark to see clearly, informing the boy that either the lights were out, or it was late at night. Shifting his face, he felt his neck feeling a little lighter, then a drop of a rather damp cloth onto the mattress. Azure eyes bright as a clear day followed the path of the cloth as he sat up, arms leaning on the soft surface to rise. His arms were dark as night—Angeal removed most of his clothes as he slept the rest of the day away but left his underclothes on.

That abnormal heat that coursed through him still lasted, but it wasn’t as overwhelming as it was earlier. His skin didn’t burn, and all his internals were functioning just fine as far he as could tell—that unusual raise of temperature was the only thing that struck as something new. It wasn’t the feeling of burning on the inside, nor was it a feverish light-headedness, but a sort of power. 

  
Not a power that was eating him, consuming him like a delicious treat, not a beast to tame, but something that awoke with a flip of a switch. Perhaps, those injections were to awaken what was dormant deep down inside of them, beyond their sights and understanding. 

  
He supposed that was why they were accepted to the ShinRa Academy. 

  
Casting his gaze upon the boy who helped him back to the dormitory, he smiled small. That boy sleeping across him was the sole reason for his drive to enroll into this Academy. The speeches, the sermons, their motto.. none of it stood out to him, the prodigy that was spoken about piqued a bit of his interest, but it wasn’t enough to keep striving just to meet or best that one guy.

  
It was due to Angeal that he wanted to be here, eventually enlist and become part of the militia. He had not a shred of care if the world would burn, he would rather sit on a hill, book in hand and watch it all happen—heck, he might throw a torch in to start the flames. Doing so will then cause the end of his only friend’s life and his Mum. 

  
That, he didn’t want to do. 

  
He could even credit Angeal as the one who inspired him to take a different approach to the world. Instead of glaring at it with spite as it spat upon him, he could turn it around with compelling songs that would then have those in the same position reach to him. Not that Genesis hated the world.. it was the tired state he was in, so goddamn exhausted by how the world, the people that rule this sack of land exploit others for their own gain that bothered him. 

  
Every day, he was betrayed by those who breathe the same air as he. 

  
He wouldn’t have realized this had it not been for the younger friend who he decided to take under his wing. The superficiality of the world, of Gaia and all it had to offer was growing old, but the passion of the boy who was in love with the earth and all it had to offer, the modest appreciation for each grain he was given had Genesis think that individuals as himself were made to serve those very ones. 

  
For Angeal would die if he did not have enough scraps to live with. Genesis had enough to survive a hundred lifetimes. 

  
Lifting himself off the soft bed, socked feet touched the ground shyly, as if he didn’t want to make contact with the carpeted floor. One foot after another, he rose further away from the bed, finally darting his eyes away from the sleeping male, and to the window right in between them. 

  
The blue so deep when light shone upon it paled when there was shades darker than it. The room they were assigned to was not a very large one, but not the smallest he has ever seen. It was close to his own at Banora, just with less decorative features, the rose prints of the dark shades and the light hues lacking, the ornate figurines, shelves and apparatus all not present in this space. Under the daylight, the room walls were a beige tint, so earthly and seemingly calming. The carpet on the floor was a wine red, comfortable and soft to the touch. 

  
Their beds were on the near corners of the room, Genesis to the left and Angeal to the right, facing the window up their heads. The window was not huge, but enough for the two to peek outside without squishing themselves to fit. Genesis wasn’t sure if Angeal could, but he was able to jump out if the glass was parted half-way.

No.. Angeal could, but he wouldn’t try like Genesis would. 

  
The door leading to the bathroom was near Genesis’ side, a couple of steps away from the footboard of his bed, and enough space from the exiting door for student desks on each side of the room for the two. Under the desks and near the beds were their suitcases—mostly Genesis’ since Angeal didn’t have a lot to carry. 

  
Genesis didn’t bring a lot from his home other than the money his parents gave, his clothes, books and some instruments. Being someone who didn’t see a difference between 300 and 3000 gil, he had.. as Angeal mentioned, clothes that were enough for twenty people. 

  
Did he say that? Something along those lines…

  
The instruments were out of personal importance as they were a little tradition. His parents often smiled when they laid their gaze upon their small son caressing the strings of a violin with the bow, or when his fingers touched the keys of the piano in the drawing room with such care and love, pure adoration in his eyes as he was enamoured, completely fascinated in the sounds it formed once certain keys were played.

  
He had lessons for both instruments, more violin than he did piano as he was able to play many of Chopin’s compositions by ear, taking a couple of listens and practicing day after day when there was nothing to read, or when the music in his heart couldn’t stop beating. It was one thing he still had a close intimacy with, one of the few things that had his parents could agree to—among the many things they do not. 

  
Finding himself drawing closer to the obsidian box that protected the piece leaning on the desk, he checked if Angeal was any close to waking before he flicked the metal knobs of the case, opening the locks to remove the keyboard out of the vessel that kept it away from the public eye. Freeing the instrument from its cage, he laid it to rest on his desk, plugging whatever he needed and adjusted the volume to keep the others from hearing it. 

  
Once set, he began to play a little tune. 

  
At once, he was absorbed into the musical piece, finding the beginning—G note, then proceeding slowly before building on the layout of notes. As he keyed notes, harmonizing the sweet trebles with the strong basses, the passion that was flowing through his veins, guarding his body from the cold of the midnight blues simmering into a little hug around his body, not as vigorous as it was earlier the day when they were at the assembly. That time it was rather rough for him to sit and deal with the fatigue of his body fighting against the administered medication.

  
Order of the quack of a doctor, what was his name again? 

  
He kept it low as he continued to compose. Pressing a couple of keys, he shook his head before trying others, nodding and repeating only when he liked it. The process went on.

Dark blue eyes opened as his ears picked on the sounds—the harmonies played by a musician. The player seemed to have trouble at some points, repeating one note and sort of testing what would sound best with it. Smiling to himself, he made sure he did not make a creak or a shriek as he sat up to listen to the music pouring from his friend’s soul. While he was still dressed in his underclothes, the raven-haired boy caught sight of him wearing his black dress pants once more, engrossed on the musical instrument. 

  
It was relatively bizarre how he had never been around when the boy played music. Whenever he had the chance to visit the Rhapsodos, it was a briefing outside or entering his room through a ladder or the tree’s branches. Somehow, he never had a time where he was with all members of the family—something Genesis seemed to avoid at all costs. He was present to observe his gardens flourish, but not when the bosom of his heart was released in melodies. 

  
In fact, it was perchance the first time he had the moment to listen to what he was capable of doing. What made him—the rich, urban and substantial yet depriving lifestyle different from the rural, quiet and fulfilled one he had. While it seemed pretty to write on paper that his friend was a poet, an eloquent speaker, someone good with plants and played gorgeous music, it all came down to pain and anguish to Angeal.

  
These habits, while seemingly important to the fellow higher classed people did not seem enriched to the raven-haired boy. The music that he played spoke enough of neglect, of loneliness that set a dreary atmosphere to the dark of night. It was not calling for an audience to cheer, to smile and praise his skill, it was more of a weary soul seeking rest but finding words to be too exhaustive, used up and ignorable. 

  
It was an escape of sorts. 

  
In a way, he was pouring his soul out in a manner he hoped no one could hear, and no one to come near. No one save for Angeal who he entrusted these pieces to. The raven-haired boy wondered if he was going to kill the emotional aspect of his songs in order for it to reach the public eye. Would it still hold that stiffened melancholy as it currently did, would it still be held with such temperament so close to his heart?

  
Not that putting songs into the public meant killing what made it heartfelt, but it would not be as.. raw as it currently was. It would be dressed in silk and presented with jewels, prettier than it currently sounded, with the boy no longer hunching over it, figuring out what would sound better, but with the grace of someone who barely had to check what he was playing, sitting like an aristocrat whose second nature was to produce sweet sounds. 

  
Instead of sensing the feelings in the moment, it would be the same as visiting an old friend. The raven-haired boy couldn’t stop himself from drawing closer to it, hoping those little notes could answer those that are not asked, but pried upon. Should’ve thought that sooner, he figured. In less than a minute’s time of focusing upon the harmony, it came to a halt. 

  
He met bright blue eyes glancing at him shortly after, hands still touching the keys of the instrument but not pressing. 

  
“Oh, ‘Geal. You’re awake.”

  
Angeal raised a brow at the uncaring nature of his exclamation. Was he expecting him to be awake, almost gawking over his skill? That would sound much like him to want Angeal to bow and praise him for his ability.  
He managed to turn his quip into a matter of watching over his friend as he recalled his rather poor state earlier.

  
“Gen, are ye feeling any better?” 

  
That explained the lessening of focus from the auburn-haired boy, he could safely presume that the lad was not truly coherent.

  
“’m fine.. just couldn’t sleep.”

  
“Is that why you were trying to wake me up?” he added a laugh to keep the mood as nimble as it could be. The last thing he wanted was the boy to behave as fiery as his hair and wrestle him. 

  
“Friends suffer together, do they not, Angeal dearest?” well, that was taken well. From what he was able to see within the moon’s light, he found Genesis smiling at him.

  
“That’s for sure.”

  
He dared not to snoop in where he didn’t belong. If the auburn-haired boy was not going to make mentions of what he was experiencing earlier, he shouldn’t bother until necessary. 

  
As much as he disagreed with the idea of finding out much later. He had to respect the possible sensitivity the boy possessed at the revelation of what was happening to his body. 

  
_Friends suffer together.._ wait a minute. No! That really was stupid, Angeal. If friends suffer together, then he has the complete right to know what was happening to his friend.

  
“Genesis, tell me if you feel different.” He had to be firm with his friend, no beating around the bush otherwise he would do the same, play a game of lies—or untruths he would call, a game of avoiding reality by simply not perceiving it, no lies, and no truth. 

  
The boy blinked once, then again, and another time. 

  
“Are you going to freak out?” there was uncertainty in his sweet tone, hesitation evident in how slow his vowels sounded. Angeal didn’t blame him, he might panic depending on what the case was. 

  
He had to play safe.

  
“I’ll make it very effort not to.”

  
It seemed to convince his friend enough.

  
“OK.” He stuttered after, “Angeal, would it sound truly bizarre if I tell you that I have the potential to shoot fire out of me?”

  
And Angeal didn’t think of panic first thing—oh no no.. the first thing he did was laugh. He was laughing so hard, loud and heartily, he slipped off the bed due to the pressure of it. 

  
“You’re serious!?”

  
Genesis wasn’t upset at his lax reaction, in fact, he was rather pleased, smiling small as Angeal continued to chortle, struggle to breathe due to the force of it. 

  
“I might be serious. I did feel it coursing through my veins..”

  
“As if you aren’t a fiery red-head as it is!”

  
Snorting, he shifted his gaze to the instrument in front of him, “fiery red-head? It’d be great to be able to burn you for that, sort of show you exactly what I meant..~”

  
The two shared laughter within their room in the dead of night, for once, uncaring if the others would hear them and call them raving lunatics. 

  
\--

  
A week before they found the silver-haired male they were currently acquainted with, Angeal honestly thought Genesis was joking about his ability to harness fire unwarranted. There was no logical explanation as to how he could unleash flames out of nowhere all of a sudden, how didn’t he burn every plant he had within his garden if he was able to do that? It had to do with the injections they were subjected to, there was no other way it could suddenly appear. 

  
If Genesis was able to do that, what was his own? How come he didn’t have heat flashes as the older male did? Surely, the boy didn’t experience menstrual periods, that was for women only. The whole Alpha, Beta, Omega aspect doesn’t run in this story, so it couldn’t be a process of entering heat.. Genesis didn’t show signs of being hurt or disturbed by the newly acquired “power”—didn’t seem to break into sweat anymore or feel dehydrated. 

  
It was as if he was able to tame that beast of power. The boy’s aura changed over the passage of time. The first month they were in the Academy, he appeared to be holding back every reserve of anger in fear that it would cause fire to shoot out of his body and burn the entire room and more. 

  
He did scoff at times; one time birthed a fire on his middle finger when he cussed a student out who got on his last nerve. That had to be a coincidence, Angeal thought. There had to be a lighter somewhere in Genesis’ hand that he made look as if he was shooting fire from his finger to intimidate the student who abrasively told Angeal to get out of his way. Angeal didn’t ask as he didn’t want to hear a ‘shite explanation’ from the older boy. 

  
September rolled into December, December into January.

  
Angeal long forgotten the whole fire thing when it came to his own development. It was surely something to witness. The doctors did not prescribe any more medication for the two or any other student, but as of late, he seemed to have no trouble in carrying anything. Just as how Genesis mentioned having the ability to harness magic pretty fast, he was able to make anything that came into contact with him appear like a twig to carry. 

  
Of course, to test his theory, he lifted Genesis with one hand, earning a pissed off auburn-haired boy trying to burst magic at him. For now, they only knew that he was able to increase his body temperature, resembling a fire. Lowering it was also available, having Angeal fear that he might be able to freeze people as well as burn. 

  
The boy was going to become very annoying with it. More irritating than him, who can list the largest weapon in the rack with ease. 

  
The day they found Sephiroth, the two were rather accustomed to the fact that they have an inkling of supernatural powers. The raven-haired boy was able to practice swordplay due to being able to carry and swing a sword without tripping over his shoelace or have the ground attract it downward. He and Genesis did visit the doctors every month with the students but weren’t told of any new development that would cause heads to roll. 

  
As they were playing outside in the snowy dunes, the auburn-haired boy didn’t bother wearing protective gear over his uniform, finding the weather outside to be no different than a soft Autumn day, a great contrast to the mother of snowstorms that was falling over their heads. Angeal was shaking in his boots, blowing hot breaths over his hands and rubbing them to keep warm, earning a laugh from the older boy. 

  
“Look Mister, I don’t have the ability to make myself a human heater!” he managed to quip, teeth chattering and almost causing him to slip on pronunciation and stutter. “Please do not flex that power in front of me.”

  
“Awwww… but you flex those muscles so much, I can’t be helped.” He responded, and the younger boy was envious at the fact that his soft speech had no hindrances. The snow didn’t bother harming the boy as it was to him. “Want to cuddle up?”

  
“Actually, cuddling right now wouldn’t sound so bad.” He was shivering despite making sure he had a woolen cap over his head, a pink knit scarf made by his Mum and a long black coat that Genesis bought him during their first days. 

  
“I was.. kinda joking, Angeal.” The way his smile grew incredulous.. Angeal should’ve brought his PHS with him and snap a photograph. Simply hilarious. 

  
“Do I have to force you over here?” if he had to cut to the chase, oh he will. Weather had nothing on super-strength!

  
Or well.. it did since his boots could get caught in a clump of snow. 

  
“Come and get me, Angeal dear.” The boy giggled, taking a headstart and fleeing from his younger friend. Angeal smirked, covering his face up to the nose with the scarf before chasing after him. It couldn’t be difficult to catch Genesis: Angeal’s never really seen him run far—he couldn’t be as experienced in the field as he was. 

  
But boy, was his older friend quite nimble! While he wasn’t the fastest in the yard, he had no disturbances from the weather, making each step of his deft and quick. To add fuel, the auburn-haired boy spun in an elegant circle, turning to face him with a cheeky grin.

  
“Coming, ‘Geal?”

  
Oh, the nerve of that brat…

  
Though he had to chuckle once again. When the auburn-haired boy gathered some snow into his hands, it immediately melted into a bowl of water. Noticing that, he dropped the handful of water with a grimace. It gave way for Angeal to create a snowball and launch it to his face.

  
“Were you trying to do this, Gen?” forming a good circle, he stretched his arm back and whoosh went the ball straight at Genesis. The boy didn’t have a second to shift away, only managing to glance up and wham! Snowball to his head and unfortunately, he was launched a couple of feet by the impact of it.

  
“OW.” The boy landed on the ground with a loud thud, rubbing a hand to his forehead. “Geal, what in the everliving hell were you thinking there?!”

  
Well, might as well burn by the boy, or freeze—whatever he chooses to do. 

  
“Sorry! Didn’t think you’d fly so far away with that!”

  
The boy scrambled to his feet, darting like a bullet to Angeal and dropping him to the cold, snowy floor. The fall wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, probably because of Angeal’s growing endurance that came with the boost in power. Genesis felt like a little slick kitten, hands clutching on his shoulders which would’ve hurt in the earlier days, now didn’t. 

  
“Oh goddess.. this is going to bruise now.” He ran a hand along his cheek before pinning the younger boy down, hands on the boy’s outstretched arms. “You’re going to pay with your life, Angeal Hewley!”

  
Angeal couldn’t help but let out a loose laugh, not at all afraid of the end if it was by his friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel wrong. While the boy had all freedom to take whatever he wanted, the younger boy knew it took a price too high. 

  
“So, here is where I die? By the hands of my best friend whose face I’ve besmirched?” 

  
Genesis sneered, “only appropriate for one of your class, my friend.”

  
Angeal pretended to lay out an exasperated sigh. “Do what you must…”

  
 _“My soul, corrupted by vengeance hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey.”_ He began to quote, removing his hands from the black-coated arms, lightly treading it around his neck—no pressing but resting his touch upon it. _“In my own salvation, and your eternal slumber..”_

  
Angeal awaited the hold to tighten, to enact this very sacrifice to earn his salvation for the torment he endured, but pale blue eyes showed no such intention, still so brilliant and soft, fondly gazing at his friend under him. It occurred to him in a moment that hey! He should be freezing his soul out, should be shivering and catching hypothermia in this cold if Genesis was to bury him in the cold.

  
 _“Legends shall speak of sacrifice at world’s end. The wind sails over the water’s surface, quietly but surely_.”

  
But he was very warm. Where Genesis’ body met his burned with warmth, so comforting and in a way life-saving. Those hands that were caressing his neck were ridding of the stiffness it held, massaging the rigidity of it that which was causing his speech to be so croaked like a man whose throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert. 

  
He’d got what he wanted: Genesis’ warmth to protect him from the cold! If this was his eternal slumber, he would take it pretty well. 

  
“Hey there.” The auburn boy winked flirtatiously, and the raven-haired one snorted a laugh. The gloveless hands of his crept up to his cheeks, rubbing small circles with his thumb to rid him of the chills that were enticed to freeze the boy laying down. 

  
“Come here often, pretty boy?” he flirted back, watching the boy lick his lips with a smile, teeth shyly peeking. 

  
It was quite frightening that now Angeal could actually kill Genesis—how their power levels were so apart. It didn’t matter if he was the lightest fourteen-year-old student or the heaviest, the boy currently had such power pumping through his veins, a mere push or a tug could be a painful throw. If he didn’t know better, he could snap the boy’s wrist in a grasp, knock him down in one fell swoop. Naturally, it would be hard to ward off a boy who was his age and was actually pinning him down, but for Angeal, it didn’t make a difference.

  
In this moment, he was willingly pinned down by the auburn-haired boy. Why wouldn’t he? _He had him right where he wanted._

  
“In the snow, drowning my best friend? Not really.” Removing a hand to palm up snow that melted another time, he let the droplets fall onto Angeal’s face, smiling full and small before it shifted to a frown. Angeal was disappointed by how fleeting a true smile could be but followed his gaze when it filled with apprehension—not at him but to their side. 

While they figured out that he was that hero they’ve read so much about, he didn’t know that this was his second friend to enter and be welcomed into his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend.


	7. Flickers of..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crisis Core!  
> And Strifesodos making progress!
> 
> It was supposed to be a silly one with Cloud until I decided that well.. Genesis should have a little limelight.
> 
> Situated in present time.
> 
> Chapter 9 returns to AGS.  
> Bandmates names changed because it would be kinda off place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I had this chapter continue the previous one before, then I said, "maybe do that later", so now that's chapter 9.
> 
> -I think one thing I should address us that I portray Genesis a little differently. It's quite loosely based off the game, just with a minor tweak. He's still a bit of a ninny, but he's more honest with his feelings.  
> -They're all tweaked a little to differentiate them from their Canon counterparts which will make appearances later.
> 
> Happy reading~

\--

_Cerulean eyes fluttered open to the stench of blood and grime, of embers and ash, smoke burning through the skies of baby blue and enveloping it in deep grays of smog. Of the ground so cold and unpaved, stones littering quite everywhere with the wood sharp and decayed, of vegetation under his back to be as dry as his throat was. Stirring, he roused himself to a sitting position with a good measure of time, feeling every creak and struggle of his stiff body. How it refused to obey him when he commanded it to stand._

  
_What was happening to him?_

  
_The terrain resembled a warzone, where he was leading soldiers of some kind into a battle, an unending task that would cost countless of lives. Wait.. countless of lives? Was he their Commander? Then why was he laying on the cold ground that bit him in the back?_

  
_Turning his gaze to the side—an action that should’ve been as easy as blinking took a long urge of controlling unsettled nerves and frozen shivers, he found his beloved Rapier thrust into the left shoulder of a large human. He was twice his height and stature, making Angeal appear like a weak child._

  
_Where was Angeal? Where was that seraphim.. Sephiroth? The pupper and his new friend? Where was anyone at all!?_

  
_He was losing focus and he blurred out once more._

_When he came through, it was a sight of something else. Now he was standing unsteady, posture slackening and yet menacing—like a madman so lost in despair and desperation, in the field that was overly familiar. The arching trees, the small modest homes.. farmlands.. all of it lost its former luster. The beauty that surrounded the boring place was replaced with a sickening nausea._

  
_Flames danced around him as he was laughing, throat cracking up as if it was going to scrape every cell out of it as he gloated. This form of him released flames from his hands without any materia—having mastered the defect that he was developing. Raising a deep crimson Materia that he couldn’t put a finger of recognition to, he found himself hurling it up into the sky calling its name._

  
_Bahamut._

  
_But, who the hell was Bahamut?_

_Inside.. it hurt. It hurt to lift his hand that didn't appear wounded, bones creaking awfully with each digit movement, fatigue washing over him like a bucket of ice and metal. Why did it feel as though someone had stabbed a million blades through him?_

_  
He too, appeared differently. No longer was he so fresh and young, with an elegant touch of knowing how to appear attractive and yet slightly meek—this man who shared his voice and name had ashen hair, his fiery auburn paling into a dull grey—not silver as Sephiroth’s luscious locks, but one that resembled dead hair. His coat, so radiantly crimson was tipping into a pale stardust at the top, with black and silver pauldrons adorning his shoulders and a suit of black._

  
_He was dressed like an evil warlord or something, a graceful menace._

  
_This place that was burning into ash was his former home, Banora!_

_It quickly shifted further and further as the black scales came into his vision, when the massive dragon flew, he was not in the burning village anymore. Now, where was he? All of it seemed to be so.. blue._

  
_Not that song, mind you, but he was in a surrounding that had the shades akin to a bruise._

  
_Jagged azure grounds guarded him, suspended in the air in an enclosed space. He knew he wasn’t touching the ground for it seemed so far away. The deep moss of bright blue that was drowning in ebony, in obsidian that loomed over it and darkened the space so cold and lifeless._

  
_He made an attempt to coil his wrist and palm his fingers but found no such movement. It wasn’t out of exhaustion any longer, he was awake as day and yet asleep as if he was under a spell. It didn’t appear nor feel like a spell that was causing him misfortune, rather, he felt comfortable in the space he was locked in._

  
_There was nothing around, no one to breathe the same air as he, no one he could associate with, just pure isolation. His own thoughts couldn’t reach itself, jumping from one place to another as he glanced down, finding his body curled on itself. Completely immobile and unresponsive to the world and all around, he wondered if he was still breathing at this point._

  
_Was he on life-support with this swirl of magic that held him so protectively? It wasn’t foreign magic, that much he was able to note. It wasn’t a spell or a gathering of magic by another human’s hand.. no, this was his own._

  
_He has sealed himself somewhere within these azure sapphire-shaded grounds. Where he was, was anyone’s guess. What was he protecting himself from? Why was he become a hermit from the world he has an odd loving for? Sure, the people were bastards, ungrateful, selfish and cruel individuals who only hurt him when he needed them most.. it was still the world he lived in, where he grew up, where it gave him two of the most important happenings in his life._

_Angeal._

_Sephiroth._

_Just where were they? The auburn-haired man couldn’t sense their presence that loomed over his so often, that strength they carried, the pride within their hearts.. they were no longer._

_It was cold.. so cold._

  
_When the grounds of the villages and battlefields broke down and were rendered to ash.. did he kill Angeal and Sephiroth with that? No no no…_

  
_It was then his mind was full of voices of another. So close to his own, and yet deeper, regretful and so depressing._

  
_That voice was shaking his head, refusing to accept that they were gone. There was no possible way those two could succumb to fate in such a pathetic manner. Sure, he was incredibly skilled, but he never bested his best friends even when they shared ranks. He didn’t lay a finger on them, he made sure he didn’t harm them—got nowhere close to a fist to the face despite the biting words that they gave him, despite the life that Angeal gave for him, Lazard gave for him._

  
_Those damned clones that were useless pieces of SOLDIER junk._

  
_He didn’t harm his friends, and yet.. they left him behind. They left him alone to rot—no, they have fallen prey to their own words. Sephiroth has rotted by the obsession of his “Mother”, and Angeal who couldn’t take the brutal mantle of losing his SOLDIER-hood._

  
_**One becomes a hero, one wanders the land, and the last one is taken prisoner**._

  
_Surely, Sephiroth was the goddamned hero—taking what was his, Angeal has wandered, searching for his reason to be, and he.. Genesis was left behind, sealed in his nothingness, a prisoner of ShinRa._

  
_All his efforts to get his friends out of this hellhole that constantly used them like weapons before discarding them when they were meeting their end.. and still, he falls behind. His friends dead, his life not his own once again. This seal was his last resort on staying away from all the chaos that stirred around and in him like a beast now in repose._

  
_\--Whose thoughts were these? The one who offered him an outline as to what his life was? For all that Genesis has lived, he was merely a student of this military school called ShinRa—he hadn’t taken a single life, Sephiroth and Angeal were his classmates, not Commander and General. Sure, they were strong with the blade, but they have yet to enlist, they were only their ripe ages of adulthood, not veterans of war…_

  
_They were flipping students!_

_**"Such is the fate of a monster."** _

_Azure eyes closed involuntarily, closing his heart to the boy who questioned more than a child on speed._

_._

_.._

_.._

..

“Gakkun.. Gakkun!”

  
There was a tug on his shoulder before it began to tap, and the boy jolted awake. Cerulean eyes took in his surrounding to remind himself where he was. Not that cavern down below with that fading light in his way, no protruding spikes or unpaved ways, no cold of the darkness that dressed all around him. 

  
“Huh, oh, Yusuke.” He glanced up to the friend who woke him up, raising his head from where it laid. When did he sit at the desk and fall asleep? He couldn’t recall.. If he was in the recording studio, then he was sure they were undergoing recordings for a song and a video to tag it along. Their new single was due soon, so all the work they could do, they mapped it out. 

  
For him to fall asleep just like that… 

  
The one who shook him out of that strange dream was his band member Yusuke, trustworthy fella. He was almost taller than Sephiroth, with short light brown hair that spiked down his thin face, reaching down his cheeks, brushing lightly before it ended on the bone. Like Genesis, he was dressed in black from head to toe, both in cotton turtle-necks and thin pants. Of course, they were dressed in a multitude of leather for the video-shoot. Not to mention their work-out routine right before getting into the PV shoot.

  
As soon as they were done, it was removed in the need for a little freedom—to shower and get the sweat off soon. 

  
Genesis liked the slightly older male for his kind patience with the rather young and ambitious singer. It was a little like having another Angeal by his side: so caring, mature and well.. a little authoritative. Looking after him like a mother, as he would joke. “How long was I out for?”

  
“About fifteen minutes,” his friend answered, smiling small, “after you told us to take ten.”

  
Genesis blinked a couple of times, finding the small smile on his friend’s face grow into a long, light laugh. He hoped it was something very funny the reason why Yusuke was not very concerned with the fact that Genesis had slacked off for 15 minutes for what? 

  
For his dreams to give him a good fright.

  
“Pray tell, what’s so funny?” he asked as if the answer was so obvious, Genesis was a fool not to know. Guess he really was sleepy. 

  
“You never ask for breaks! See how well that’s taken you.”

  
Ah, it was a sardonic laugh. It was a resigned laugh that told the auburn teen that his actions were concerning them all. This moment of phasing out for a couple of minutes was a sigh of relief for them: that their friend and leader was taking care of his needs that were unmet for a very long time. 

  
“How far are we in the PV?” he shifted the subject, not wanting to waste more time as it did, dilly-dallying by letting his mind wander too far and scare him with these strange thoughts of him leaving ShinRa, going against Sephiroth and becoming a zombie. 

  
None of it made sense with how spontaneous it all was. 

  
“We’re halfway through, just need the green-screens to do their work.” You glanced at the people at the back with their equipment, making adjustments that neither he nor Genesis understood, knowing they were not in that field. “The choreo’s done.”

  
Genesis heaved a long sigh at that. While he may be a decent dancer when it came to ballrooms, those that accentuated the essence of a song, the spirit of the mood which was interpreted in 10,000 different ways was freaking difficult. He was only a good actor when it came to being around his friends, as a haughty young teen who was loaded with wealth and success. 

  
That was the image that everyone knew him by and expected him to be, that’s why it was easy. 

  
Performances were not as easy as hopscotch. Unlike training in the Academy, this work was intimate, it needed care and nestling of love as well as digging deep inside the consciousness to pull the soul of music within the piece. It was so personal that Genesis was often caught under a chokehold with the lyrical content. He didn’t believe nor live in some of them, but there were times when it felt like he did. That he was feeling that loss he wrote about despite writing that about a friend’s situation, or a wife’s woes. 

  
It was a strange thing that only music did to him. He found himself so drawn to it; he forgot all other duties save for his Academy work—which he needed to get back to. Thank goodness, he didn’t plan anything out with Sephiroth nor Angeal, otherwise they would be left behind. He hoped they knew he was recording a PV that he was going to show later.

  
Flicking the bright—lighter and shorter than his natural auburn strands of the wig from his face, he followed Yusuke’s glance to the camera-crew. The other members were still having their parts recorded in the soundroom, leaving Genesis and Yusuke the only two who got first peeks of what they have done so far.

  
While he loved his work, he couldn’t wait to meet his comfortable bed that waited for him in his dormitory. 

  
Just then, his silver PHS vibrated on the desk, earning the startled gazes of the two as if that device was a repulsive piece of utter waste. 

  
“I thought that was on silent.” Yusuke snickered, rolling his eyes, and Genesis lifted it in a manner of dealing with a foreign device. 

  
“It was on silent.”

  
Genesis had absolutely no interest in checking who it was, more interested to toss it into the desk that he was previously napping on. He wasn’t sure what had him lift the PHS and check if it was important. Angeal never texted him while he was working—preferring that Genesis do it on his own accord. At least, then he would know he was outside. 

  
Zack was out of the question, not texting Genesis but calling him straight up if there was something on mind. Even so, he had enough self-respect to not phone him until Angeal confirmed the availability. It was rather funny considering it was only a month or two ago he found out that he was Gackt. 

  
Sephiroth, on the other hand, didn’t at all. In fact, Genesis was certain that he still had no idea how the thing even works. Those cat-like green eyes stared bewildered at it so often, it had the older male laugh until he slipped off onto the floor or clutched his sides that panged in pain. 

  
It had to be either an advertisement, or something business related. The latter, he couldn’t ignore.   
Heaving a sigh, he flipped it open and perused through the notifications. Somehow, there weren’t many! Running his thumb across the screen, he flicked a couple away before zeroing in on a distressed text from the little Chocobo.

  
Since when did Cloud text him? He was as obstinate as Sephiroth was when it came to everything. Every. Single. Thing. The two were like long lost brothers or something, _clones_ —

  
At the thought of clones, his mind threatened to shut down. It was a strange spasm that warped through him at the mention of that very word, a stab of sorts. It was within a second and fled shortly after, but heart-wrenchingly painful. His recoil and curl of his body didn't go unnoticed. Thunder of convulsion ripped into his soul, shaking him for that second. 

  
“Gakkun, y’alright?”

  
He gave Yusuke a rather tight smile, “yeah, just a strange headache. Must be all the lights in here.”

  
The fear that was written in his friend’s face softened, passing him a cold bottle of water. Genesis smiled in gratitude as he flicked his gaze to read the text. As unexpected as the message was, it wasn’t unexpected that Cloud was experiencing trouble with properly utilizing materia. 

  
He was still surprised at the fact that the cute little guy decided to pop by. Of course, a pleasant surprise.

  
Turning his gaze to the clock behind him, his peripherals caught Yusuke and the others returning to their work, his friend pointing to the screen where the editors were doing their photoshop work on the backgrounds, the other members rolling out of the audio-room and stretching themselves. It was currently 6 in the evening, long after class hours and work hours for some—If Cloud was practicing for his materia training, it must’ve been because of an assignment, a need to improve himself, or a test. 

  
Genesis weighed the odds. Sure, he could bolt out of here and monitor Cloud in his practice, but he had the feeling that they needed his opinion on 90% of the content they worked on. Even here where they were working on the landscape—where he had no actual experience working with, they needed his opinion on the effects they planned to use, if his positioning needed work or any of that.

  
Genesis took a glance at Yusuke who was pointing at the screen before catching his gaze and beckoning him to come up to see what they had so far. Well.. work came first. Taking a good couple of sips of the cold water, he lifted the PHS to his lips and drawled a voice message. It was difficult to stifle his laugh over how miserable Cloud appeared on text—imagine if he was sulking in the training room, blond locks sagging down with his downfall of spirit. 

  
Adorable, honestly. 

  
After the message, he got the notification of the poor soul calling him and considered declining it, strutting over to his team at the back and giving them the “OK” if he was satisfied with their work. 

  
Letting it ring for a good half a minute, he leant over his friend’s chair and peeked at the screen. They were working with the lighting in the bright room Ge—Gackt was singing in. The PV had a multitude of different people in buses, long hallways, tables, and they were reading, boarding the transit, knitting, holding what was important to them, and Gackt mumbling a song as he glanced to and fro. 

  
Genesis was pretty bored and sleep heavy, giving the exhausted features he wanted to accentuate as naturally as he could get. Hooded eyes that were actually sleepy appeared forlorn, as if he wanted to reach out to whom his gaze landed upon, but knew there was no such way. That pangs of pain through his tired body as it refused to move—courtesy of the slow motion of the editor crew and the good angle work of the cameramen had Genesis smiling. 

  
Thank goodness he would be able to sleep tonight. This particular day he only got 2 before he went for class, stayed with Angeal and Sephiroth, observed as they were teaching the younger students how to properly wield a blade. As he kept yawning as if it was the most boring lesson in the world, they had him stand out of it. 

He hoped they were not looking forward to him joining their tutorials.. he did have a charismatic image, he was able to deal with people as catering to their needs and figuring the best way to offer it was rather easy, but he was a busy guy. He couldn’t be managing his band and other students who gleamed at him in admiration while their hands blistered with bad posture. 

  
He didn’t have the damned patience that Angeal had. He was not oblivious to suffering as Sephiroth was.   
Finding the PV looking great, he answered the phone to hear the underclassman greeting him, seemingly relieved.

  
“Genesis! are you alright?”

  
How cute.. the little guy sounded like Genesis was in the middle of a battlefield, asking his condition before allowing him to be sent back. 

  
“Great, just dandy my dear. Just finishing up a PV recording at the studio..” stepping away from his friends, his smile grew mischievously, “what’s the matter? Want Genny-wenny to come over and give you a good pointer or two?”

  
“A PV?” the distant cluelessness had him laugh. At this moment, he could practically see the soft blond boy tilt his head in a childish manner, eyes wide and completely unaware. Genesis debated on giving him an answer, casting a side-long glance at Yusuke who laughed. They were not too far away, it shouldn’t be a surprise that anyone heard him chatting with a student of the Academy. 

  
To Cloud’s luck, Genesis would add, only Yusuke was able to hear them. 

  
But the gasp he received had him shift the PHS slightly away from his ear, smile remaining.

  
“Wait, a PV! Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry for interrupting you in a busy time…” The younger boy’s voice dimmed as he continued, “here I was moping about how I can’t this right.. you’re already booked for the day.”

  
At this, Genesis frowned. Now, he felt the underlying need to complain and mope all day about how damned weary he was, running on two hours of sleep, five on anxiety and coffee—that he doesn’t even drink because the taste was a little too much for him, watching Sephiroth and Angeal babysit the children, and now in the studio after doing multiple takes for a single PV. 

  
Studio work started at 5:00 a.m. till 9:00—only because he had to run to class before coming back at 15:00 hours. It was currently 19:00 in the evening. To say Genesis was tired was an understatement, to say that he had enough patience to deal with a little Chocobo in a sorry state was nigh.

  
He couldn’t even deal with that on a good day!

  
“Cloud Strife, you better not be mulling over something more.” If there was anything he disdained when it came to dealing with people, other than the fact that he had to deal with them in the first place, it was dealing with sullen ones. 

  
Cloud was his friend, a rather cute new friend, a cute little friend who had trouble getting around artificial materia, so what? No one is perfect, materia happens to be the thing he’s not the best at!

  
Even if it was an excuse to hang out with him—Genesis was flattered that the dull boy appreciated his attention as he did. Only his blue eyes among the students caught his with admiration that differed from the blind worship he should be happy with. Cloud was the only one among the youngins with Zack who didn’t really have that ‘rich boy, son of the mayor in Banora’ awe about him. 

  
Those two were the only ones who saw a human being under the façade, under his natural talent, of course.  
He wasn’t on a pedestal too high with them. 

  
The sweet boy apologized, and it brought him to giggle. There was something honest with the way Cloud behaved, he didn’t put up a face in front of his upperclassman or anything. If he felt something, he was upfront about it, not barking behind their backs. If he was displeased with him, Angeal or Sephiroth, he didn’t make a scene about it nor did he resort to gossip on the PHS bulletin their fanclubs droned on and on in. 

  
He was respectful, and Genesis had a small sense of validation from him. A strange sense of acceptance the way he felt from Sephiroth or Angeal, Yusuke or the rest of the crew. To say the least, it was rare.

  
Finding Yusuke standing close to the table where he was napping on, he changed the subject.

  
“Want to see a preview of the studio, my little Chocobo?”

\--

The blond should’ve known that Materia training for someone like him is not a walk in the park. It was a lot tougher than it seemed!

  
The burden of learning how to tame the magic that burnt, froze, shocked—that made your organs feel like agony because it was a little too strong to tame was not a nice thing. Cloud figured, after a couple of burns to himself because of upset Materia, that he should really ask Genesis for some good advice about it.   
It really hurt to be so foolish and mess up the simplest of things. 

  
Mustering all possible courage, he called his friend and upperclassman about it. Fishing his number on his PHS, he gave a little mopey text about his little dilemma and any pointers on how to improve himself without taking so much of the latter’s time. 

  
When he addressed it to his upperclassman through the PHS, he got a loud laugh as a response. A voice-mail where Genesis is just laughing about _‘how hard can a measly Materia trick be?’_

  
Among the other things he should’ve known, it was that he was calling his upperclassman when he was having a PV shooting. At first, Cloud questioned Genesis on what PV meant, and then he knocked his head over it. He’s GACKT, and he has to produce many music videos to add as a visual to his music!

  
Oh gosh.

  
And he was bothering him this moment for petty assistance.

  
“ _Cloud Strife, you better not be mulling over something more_.” Genesis barked on the phone, honeyed voice rather stern and commanding. Cloud resisted a flinch at his order. 

  
“Right, sorry Genesis.”

  
Then there was a giggle on the other line. 

  
“Alright, I forgive you.” Cloud heard the sound of something being placed on the table, telling him that the auburn-haired teen set his PHS on it for band practice. He hated to be those creeps called fanatics, but he did wonder what was in store for his band work. It was all too exciting to know that someone he’s admired for years and years was the same man as one of the few upperclassmen he respected. 

  
He thought he was going to be behind Angeal like a sick puppy for years as Zack was, or to Sephiroth who oozed with superiority and class. Genesis was no lower than them, but he wasn’t sure if he could really be on the same ground as the slightly prettier one. 

  
Cloud didn’t imagine mingling with him was more difficult than the silver-haired teen. He always assumed that he would’ve been the easiest, knowing how to flaunt his skill in speech and curve up smiles that caught all attention. After a couple of months of being around them (with Zack as well), he realized that Sephiroth was the one who was the most expressive. 

  
He didn’t speak words, but his heart was the loudest of them all. All was written in his eyes, his face informed Cloud of all truths that they shared without the need to verbalize it. Angeal was surprisingly well-guarded, holding himself to a standard that cannot show weakness. 

  
‘Dishonourable behaviour’ he labelled it. 

  
And while Genesis’ emotions were the most visible, what lingered deeper were overshadowed. He surprisingly, wasn’t readable! They knew his liking for Loveless, his need for showing elegance and caring well for his appearance but be it the entire truth or just a ruse for something deeper, that part they didn’t know. 

  
Beauty seemed to come naturally to him whether he was vain about it or not. Knowing self-worth is nothing wrong by Cloud’s books. In fact, it kept things easier. If he had to keep reassuring Genesis that he was the prettiest being on Gaia, that he was powerful and so clever, he would be drained dry. He wouldn’t believe his own words if they were spoken more than once. That he couldn’t do to the upperclassman, to lie and lie and block the truth. 

  
Worse, turn truths into lies. He couldn’t do that to him. 

  
“Want to see a preview on the studio, my little Chocobo?” Genesis’ voice interrupted his reverie, his fear that was beginning to eat him.

  
“If you don’t mind…”

  
He heard a little laugh and found himself smiling again. He immensely liked that little giddiness that Genesis made him feel, he felt so important, so precious whenever the auburn-haired boy smiled and cooed at him. Even being called a “cute chocobo” was not an insult if it was muttered from that voice he loved so much.

  
Golly, was he crushing after his upperclassman and idol? He probably was! His heart was doing the jumping jacks, trying to break itself out of the rib-cage protecting it and wish to be given to his crush, who would hold it gently with those gloved hands, smiling warmly.

  
His PHS pinged when the photographs came in, and it took Cloud to break a straw dummy with the hilt of his blade to stop from blushing madly. Genesis stood with some of the members of the band, his friend Yusuke smiling at the camera to where Genesis pointed with a smile. He couldn’t tell who was at the back, but the guitarist he recognized any day. 

  
He was Genesis’ bandmate, one of the few he trusted outside the two friends of the Academy. 

  
**Rhapsodos of Fire** _: Like what you see?_

  
Was the text. Genesis was wearing a navy sleeveless turtle-neck that resembled something one would wear if they were sparring, Cloud just assumed it was part of working on the PV. Yusuke was dressed similarly, waving to the camera with a wide smile, both in black slacks.

  
**Chocobo-Racer Strife** : Why does it look like you guys came from a training session?

  
He texted back, finding that if it was for a cinematic, it was a little rugged. The studio did not have any fancy wallpapers or greenscreens, it was full of equipment for both recording and… training, really. Cloud could’ve sworn he saw some people in the back wearing helmets, the floor in that cushioned mat for those who wrestle or do yoga, the walls were a plain beige, the floor a tiled brown…

  
**Rhapsodos of Fire _:_** _Workouts silly, we do them before any work in the studio. Gotta stay in shape, y’know~_

  
Why did he message back as if it was the most normal thing he’s ever done? Did he do his military training while practicing band work? Were the members of his band also planning on enlisting anytime soon? Why hadn’t he seen them walking the halls of ShinRa Academy?

  
Finding himself asking too many questions in less than a minute had him nearly roll on the floor laughing. 

  
**Rhapsodos of Fire** : _What about you? Send us a piccy._

  
And Cloud hesitated, finding the spot of the floor where he stood fill with the straw of the dummy. It was like a haystack belonging to a farm, with Cloud appearing like the little chicken grazing in it. 

  
Well, a chicken with a big knife. 

  
He debated sending anything but an emoji, but with the way Genesis put the effort in showing what he was doing while his band prepared for their video-shoot, it was only courtesy that he does the same. And so, he did, thrusting his sword into the haystack, he angled the PHS to take a self-photo, finding a hard time to smile. He didn’t like self-portraits or any of that, but the thought of Genesis pointing his own camera as he took a photo with Yusuke, a smile crept up his face. 

  
He clicked send.

  
And before he could regret his entire life and how much he was so head-over-heels about the auburn-haired boy, he received a response in form of a heart emoji from him along with a laugh. Cloud didn’t mind the laugh as that was the goal in sending a silly, dynamic photograph, but the thought of the boy sending this same photo to the public for all to see…

  
Oh shoot. He did _not_ think this through!

  
It was already too late for regrets now that it was sent, and the boy responded. Still… they never said hope has died. After the auburn teen replied to his photo, he shot a quick text that he has to get back to work, that meant he wouldn’t be able to continue little chats with him until they were done. 

  
How long it would take? He wasn’t sure. 

  
With this in mind, Cloud considered taking him out for dinner. His upperclassman was outside the Academy as it was, he could arrange a little something after he returned from the studio, couldn’t he?

  
Wait.. when did he grow that confidence to be the one asking the older out? For all he knew, Genesis saw him as a fun person to be around, but not one who he would spend a long time with. Not romantically when he has two of the highest in charm by his sides. Who wouldn’t want to be with Angeal or Sephiroth if they were as esteemed as Genesis?

  
It could just be pity or the love of having a younger brother the reason why Genesis bothers with him. Heaving a sigh, Cloud plucked his sword from the dismembered dummy and went to grab a broom to clean the mess. 

\--

It was nearing ten thirty in the evening when the blond boy received a call. At this time, he was done with dinner, setting his bed to turn in for the night in his shared dormitory with Zack. He didn’t dare tell his friend why he was feeling under the weather as if he had been rejected. 

  
He had no definitive proof of such happening, after all. Besides, Zack would either laugh at his foolishness, or cry at his feeble attempt on being with his upperclassman. He couldn’t even distinguish whether his feelings for the auburn-haired teen were romantic or just awe for his incredible skills. 

  
If it was love, then he had Sephiroth to worry about. 

  
Why Sephiroth? Because he had the feeling that he was the one unwilling to give his friend to anyone, be of a lesser priority to Genesis. Angeal appeared to be open-minded about it, but those longing stares by the green-eyed man threw the blond off. If anything, he wasn’t even sure how the latter felt about Genesis. Was it attraction? Just pure adoration for his friends? 

  
Whatever it was, it didn’t seem that Sephiroth would happily see his friend hang out with someone else. A lower rank, a mere chicken in the field of the distant wolf, cunning fox and honourable lion. Zack was their puppy—quote Angeal and Genesis, they could never take him seriously, and why? Cloud didn’t pry.   
What made him think he had a chance to begin with?

  
Thus, he ignored his feelings in favour of showing Zack a bright smile and flushing when he told the boy that he practically crushed the dummies in the training grounds—also known as the gymnasium as they play sports in the very room. Zack’s chortle was worth it all. 

  
Ergo, when he received a call from Genesis, he was caught between sparkling in glee or the need to sulk. He was afraid, in all honesty. 

  
_So damned afraid_ of what was to come. 

  
“Strife speaking,” he stiffly spoke, his soft tone taking a low for the worst.

  
“Is that how you greet everyone on PHS? My, I’m disappointed..”

  
He hated how much he loved that sweet voice. It was going to haunt him when the stab to his heart arrives.

  
“Sorry..”

  
“Again with the apologizing..~” Genesis more or less seemed amused, even as he scoffed—or was that a yawn. Cloud suspected the latter, expecting the auburn male to be too tired to be fully coherent of anything. “Now, tell me what’s on your mind?”

  
“You must be exhausted, Rha—Genesis.” He quickly corrected himself, finding the need to keep the caller in a good mood—he was too good at not managing that. 

  
“A quick bullet you dodged there.” The boy laughed, and Cloud found himself smiling, that giddiness in his heart pumping madly. “There must be something else you have in mind..”

  
There was no beating around the bush with Genesis as there was with Zack, Sephiroth and Angeal. Sephiroth only for reason of not catching on their drift. 

  
Gosh, how was he going to ask him.. dinner seemed a little too intimate, going out in a park would be guaranteed to bother Genesis who might not be a fan of small strolls along nowhere.

  
“I heard there was a performance on LOVELESS on Friday night..” thankfully he was not in the room, nestled in bed where Zack could hear him—where his sleep be disturbed by Cloud’s chattering on the PHS. 

  
“Oh yes, there is! What of it?” the tone that rose with Genesis’ happy drawl had the question _, are you trying to ask me out?_

  
“Do you.. want to watch it with me?”

  
“Wow, you’re really asking me out~” Was he happy or just ready to tease the everliving heck out of him?

Whatever it was, bury him six feet deep. 

“ _I thought you’d never ask,_ _Cloud Strife_. We’ll meet exactly at 19:00 hours.”

Cancel that funeral. At least.. after the “date” then bury him. That last response was so heartfelt, so full of love from Genesis, Cloud could’ve sworn he just got a cardiac arrest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend. Twitter and Tumblr are @AmareinMortis, I do quite a bit of doodling on those.


	8. To spar with the Prodigy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> back to the past, and it's in Geal and Seph’s perspectives. AGS all over. 
> 
> A year and a half after chapter 4-5. 
> 
> Warnings? Genesis. Just Genesis. And Seph being dense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I have a [ silly doodle](https://amareinmortis.tumblr.com/post/629623585060913152/some-more-soft-asg-as-i-mope-over-their-canon) to go with this one.  
> -It’s still funny that this was supposed to be pointless and funny, then soft. Now it’s taking a different approach again.  
> \- The other reason why I had to push the time ahead was because of what is spoken within the latter half of this chapter.  
> This one is easily my favourite to work on. This and chapter 7. I think it is after this one where things go a little strange.
> 
> Without further words, I hope you enjoy this segment.  
> Minor edit: I can’t believe I missed the perfect chance for Gen to quote Loveless‘, “nothing shall forestall my return”. OTL

\--

“Is the coast clear?”

  
The eldest of the three started, loosely holding the hand of the silver-haired male as they darted the halls. Being the one ahead and surveying the gymnasium, Angeal turned to face the two boys closely behind him. It has been a year and a couple of months since they’ve had Sephiroth join their classes, and still, he had the apprehension of a deer in the headlights. Genesis, his long-time friend seemed to make it his mission to befriend this boy, bringing him everywhere they could. 

  
Never once did they earn a rejection from him, nor a sign of disinterest. Rather, the silver-haired boy showed nothing but intrigue with his hostility, his wariness of the atmosphere. It wasn’t as if he was ready to bolt away or hurt them, it was more of a child who wasn’t sure what he’s supposed to be doing. 

  
As if everything in his surrounding was foreign. 

  
“It’s clear! Let’s go!”

  
With a beckoning gesture, he held the knob and shook the door, found it to be locked and nearly blew it off its hinges with his strength had Genesis not step in and slip his library card around the interlocks. The three squeezed inside and made sure the door did not creak as they closed it. 

  
“Why are we.. in the Gymnasium? It was meant to be closed.” Sephiroth finally asked, hesitant as usual. It wasn’t the quiet of a shrinking violet, a shy child, but more of a Commander questioning his subjects that were misbehaving. His tone was strong despite the slow words and ignorance of their situation.

  
“Y’see Seph,” Genesis nicknamed without really seeking his approval, “we’re going to practice.”

  
“Practice?”

  
“Yeah, Angeal’s got this super steroid thing going on with his body, I’ve been learning a lot of strange magic, and you..” he glanced side-long with a smile, “we want to see what the ‘Prodigy of ShinRa Academy’ is all about.”

  
Sephiroth merely blinked before laying a huff, smiling nonetheless. 

  
“Do you know what prison the so-called title ‘Prodigy’ is?”

  
Genesis gave him his full attention then, turning to glancing slightly upward to meet his eyes.

  
“I do. And I intend to overthrow you.” Extending a hand, he pointed at what where the boy’s heart laid. “That is my favour.”

  
The silver-haired boy rested a hand on his, clenching slightly.

  
“That would mean carrying a burden, a curse of sorts.” The regret in his tone didn’t go unnoticed by either of them, the fright of losing his only friends was a common fear. Angeal felt that too much. 

  
“And we are willing to carry that weight, Sephiroth.” Angeal found himself still for a second before smiling in agreement, stepping forward.

  
“Gen’s right, you’re not going to be left alone. That is our promise to you.”

  
Those beautiful green eyes widened. It welled sorrow in Angeal to see him knock himself so low. “But why for a stranger..?” 

  
By the way Genesis’ eyes lowered and the smile dimmed, Angeal figured he was going to tell the silver-haired boy that it was an answer for another time, so he stepped in before those words would be said and Sephiroth wraps himself in mindless confusion. 

  
“Because we’re friends, Sephiroth. Friends _share_ burdens together.”

  
The two wondered if it got through those walls of the boy. It was unlikely as he only gave a blink, then two, then tore his glance from them and to the ground. Angeal knew better than to think he was thinking them as fools. It was clear as those green lights that danced through his iris that he was contemplating, trying to take into consideration what he was told, what it meant to be what they were categorizing him as. 

  
When he drew blank, unable to come up with a logical explanation, he resigned. His gaze flew to Genesis who was crossing his arms—in pity or irritation, neither were sure, and then to Angeal who met his eyes with a smile. 

  
“Friends.. just what is that?”

  
“Friends are..” he ran a hand to the back of his head, drawling on his answer before Genesis cut him off with a simple word. The oldest of the three stepped forward, loosely spreading his arms to either of them, glancing at Angeal with a reassured smile then to Sephiroth, invitingly. 

  
“Us.”

  
“Us?” those wide cat-like eyes stared in silent wonder told the two enough of how the boy lived his life. This so called ‘Prodigy’. His life was nothing but trial after trial, his losses the same amount as his victories, the boy must’ve watched people who he attempted to connect with have their lives ended before he could break that ice. That stiff posture that informed the two that he lived his life entirely alone, completely unaware of how interaction even works. 

  
He only had brothers-in-arms, passersby, not people who could possess a longevity with him. Those who came and went, entered his world and swayed away with the wind like a flower that bloomed and eventually died, predeceasing the leaves that fed it. 

  
“Yes, Seph. If you want a definition of friends, _it’s us_.” Sometimes, the raven-haired boy wished he had that silver-tongue of his friend—he really had good timings as to where to use it! He wasn’t sure what he was going to respond with, and here he swoops in with honeyed replies that factually apply. “Where else would our dear prodigy need an answer for?”

  
He saw that crack in the armour once more, that smile that they earnt when they made a compelling point. Angeal treasured every smile from his friends, knowing how little the two truly do. 

  
“That is a question in itself, Rhapsodos.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone, smiling loosely at the two. Genesis snarled at him but held no maliciousness to it.

  
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. Also, it’s Genesis and Angeal, no calling us Rhapsodos or Hewley now..” was he offended? Angeal didn’t mind even after it had been some time since they got together as you could never really tell when you really are friends with the one you’ve hung out with. When he spent time with Genesis, he thought the latter was only interested in hanging out for a couple of days—a month at most, before he was going to be thrown aside. 

  
And thank Gaia that wasn’t the case. If Sephiroth felt that way.. he could understand exactly why.   
“You wouldn’t.. leave me?” both knew the underlying whisper of death slip by, veiled by his cover of using ‘leave me’ than the cryptic, ‘die on me’. It was painfully obvious that death surrounded the boy, it was the answer to the mysteries that encompassed life. He had nothing to his name than instinct: the need of survival. 

  
“Not until you want us to. We’re going to bother you till you regret ever meeting us.” The auburn boy answered, turning away from the two and making his way to the walls where the toolboxes were, sitting with the basketball baskets and other sportswear. For some bizarre reason they found that the training ground and the gymnasium were the same room, just that they used something called VR—Virtual Reality to make the battlefields they were to train upon. 

  
Genesis and Angeal have only been there twice on accident. They snuck into their upperclassmen’s classes and happened to press the VR button and landed in an unknown island. Of course, getting there was because the older boy claimed that he left his books in there, despite not going there often. Angeal knew he was up to no-good, but to what extent? He found out then.

  
There was a reason why he decided to have Rapier strapped to his back even though he complained about its heaviness. 

  
“Now enough of the sappy things.. let’s spar for a little bit.” He raised his voice to have the two hear as he stepped near the walls and rummaged through the metallic boxes that contained a few worn weapons. “I’ve been itching to try how Rapier works.”

  
“Gen, if you use it, it’ll start to rust.” Angeal heaved a sigh, thinking of the poor Buster Sword and her beautiful silver metal breaking into cracks and copper rust—a shameful sight he couldn’t behold. Genesis whipped his gaze to him, scrunching his nose before breaking into a fit of giggles. 

  
“Okay, then I’ll see what I can get my hands on from here!”

  
“But your hands are touching every weapon in that dingy thing.” Sephiroth called back, amused at the carelessness of his friend who threw weapons as soon as they didn’t suit his needs. 

  
“Yes, and you want to make something of it?”

  
Angeal glanced at Sephiroth with what seemed to be small fascination. He didn’t really understand it, but there must’ve been a way Genesis handled verbal speech that compelled the receiver of his words to respond in some way. With Sephiroth, with every quip he gave, he would receive one in return. The two had a chemistry that varied greatly by theirs that connected through the same circumstances leading to loneliness. 

  
The boy’s musing was interrupted by the toss of two blades their way: a small broadsword and one katana. Sephiroth snorted, bending down to lift the katana with eyes akin to familiarity, but unamused by the condition it was in. 

  
“Y’sure there’s none without all this rust, Genesis?”

  
It was possible that the eldest of the three didn’t expect being called by his first name so quickly: how fast Sephiroth picked up on their cues without hesitation. Genesis turned his face to glance at Sephiroth who was grimacing at the blade of choice, then went back to the box, sinking into the large container a bit further—much to Angeal’s discomfort. 

  
The boy’s feet were off the ground at this point, if he slipped, he was going to have something more than a haircut!

  
Grumbling, Angeal ran to his friend’s side and threw his hands around his waist. Genesis’ reaction to the sudden contact was understandable as it was hilarious.

  
He quite so _shrieked_. 

  
“Geal! What’s the matter? If you wanted a hug you could’ve—”

  
“I’m not hugging, damnit. I’m trying to keep you from losing your head!” it was sudden, but he had the feeling similar to a punch to the gut at the thought of leaving the shortest male to sort through the suddenly horrendous box of weapons. 

  
“Lose my head? Awww.. you’re such a hero.”

  
Angeal sighed. “I don’t want to lose one of my only two friends because he decided to play idiot.”

  
“Is that why you didn’t let me swim after that one time?” Genesis continued rummaging through the weapons, somehow never cutting himself in his haste of throwing dangerous tools of war around like if they were basketballs. 

“What incident?” Sephiroth piped in, elegantly swaying to dodge and bat weapons as they came around as he trudged over to his two friends. 

  
It was nice to see a child his age unafraid to hurt someone with his tossing of blades here, there and everywhere. It took the guts of a pure troublemaker for that, or someone who had full trust in his friends that they would deflect each projectile their way. 

  
Nice.. very nice indeed.

  
“Geal’s being dramatic about a little happy accident that happened when I was seven.” The boy’s tone was completely dismissive, disinterested in emphasizing an event in his life that must’ve been a life-changer—judging by the way his friend began to yell. 

  
“ _I’m_ being dramatic? You’re the literal drama queen here!” Hewley shot back, arms steady as he continued lifting the boy as if he was nothing. 

  
“Soon, soon.. I’ll be the drama club queen.”

  
“Drama club.. happy little accident..” Shooot.. he really couldn’t follow such a conversation that kept jumping around—he shouldn’t have stepped in. Was this how every conversation went? Jumping from one topic to another in a span of seconds? He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted in on it. 

  
“Now look, you confused the poor guy.” Rhapsodos clicked his tongue before ceasing his search, brandishing another katana from the case and showing it to him. Standing beside the silly boy kept it easier to hand the blade to him. “This one better?”

  
Dropping the first weapon, he muttered a thanks as he studied the better quality and sized blade. It wasn’t Masamune, but it was one appropriate to his height. He had to admit, his own blade was a little too long, and if he didn’t have access to JENOVA, he wouldn’t be able to carry it at all. 

  
_Thanks dad, I guess._

  
“It’s better, thank you.”

  
If his study of character told well, Rhapsodos appreciated a good sense of finesse and etiquette. Sure, he may not have flowered speeches everywhere, but there was a little care he put into the choice of language—perhaps to sound interesting as soldiers really did not have any regard for how they spoke. They let their bodies do the speaking. 

  
Sephiroth himself? He let the blade do the talking—slaying all that came in his way and merely barked orders to his subjects. With Hewley and Rhapsodos, he really had to put effort into expanding on his vocabulary. 

  
He should invest in a thesaurus..

  
“Now, let’s tell him slowly.” Hewley pulled his friend out of his awkward position of being half-way in the box of weapons and half carried by the boy. Hands still round his waist in a protective manner, he continued, “I think Gen’s comfortable with letting you know about it..”

  
Sephiroth heard a low mutter of, ‘and well, telling stories help in bonding’ as he began to explain the oddly put accident that the auburn-haired boy disregarded as a trick of humour.

  
“Basically, Genesis went to swim one time with a couple of kids in Banora—I stayed back because I was with Mum, and I guess he got a little ambitious and kept going. He didn’t notice the tides and it almost ate him.” Sephiroth found himself blinking at two separate reactions to something potentially frightening. The boy nearly died and he was rolling his eyes, while his friend who only heard of the incident—just a stranger, an acquaintance at that time was scared out of his wits at what could’ve happened.

  
If they were friends since that time, then it added bite to that bark. Angeal almost lost his only friend to water. 

  
“So I got careless, what of it?”

  
“You could’ve died!”

  
“And?” Sephiroth began to wonder if Rhapsodos was dropped on the head as a baby. Losing his life and he didn’t even give a damn about it? Oh wait.. he did the same, consider them both dropped on the heads as babies. “But yeah, I was swimming, I wanted to go so far I didn’t notice I was not big enough to swim far.”

  
“It was horrible!” And Sephiroth wanted to side with Hewley who expressed something he has yet to understand, but with the way he held the smaller boy so close and making him look like his favourite toy was just adorable. Rhapsodos appearing very accustomed to this treatment added the icing to the cake. “I hope you never do something so stupid like that ever again!”

  
_Cake.. how does that taste?_

  
“If it stops you from picking on me like a mother hen, I will stop..~” when he felt those cerulean eyes gaze at him, he noted that they were lowered into a glare. “See, Seph’s not even paying attention anymore.”

  
At this, Hewley released his friend out of the strong grip he had, stepping away to lift the blade that laid on the ground of the gymnasium. 

  
“Right! Sephiroth probably wants to spar with us.” He smiled wryly, glancing at the blade that reflected the two. Rhapsodos hummed a note, kneeling down to lift a blade that wasn’t Rapier and raised it to his face. It was reminiscent to a prayer gesture, perhaps praying to the goddess in case he gets completely annihilated by him. 

  
_Good thought, Rhapsodos_. 

  
When Hewley conducted the same gesture, Sephiroth raised a brow. Perhaps it was a thing of the two friends to give up a prayer before they fought anyone. It reminded him of the fathers at the clergy who pleaded forgiveness before they committed what they called a sin. 

  
Was Sephiroth a sin?

He didn’t have time to think, grasping the blade in his left hand and offering up a smirk, anticipating the two to break into a sprint and launch a flurry of dash attacks. How simple. Those he could intercept in a moment’s blink and turn them away and expect the two to fly meters away by the impact. 

  
To his surprise, Hewley and Rhapsodos were not as weak as he thought. Despite the rather twiggy figure Rhapsodos held, he landed a strong attack but flew a meter at the deflection. Hewley, on the other hand took his time with his strikes and when they met his blade, it was with enough force that Sephiroth had to pour more strength into his interception. 

  
The two fought in separate ways and yet they were together, as one unit. Sephiroth’s eyes gleamed at the sight of it, at the euphoria he’s been missing for a time too long. Even though his opponents were far older than these two half-pint children, they did not put up much of a fight when Masamune struck them down along with their hope of victory. 

  
These two.. perhaps it was lack of that blade the reason why, but he had to put more effort into besting the two. One of them kept swiping in with quick attacks, one after another, and the other who struck with power, with both so vigorous and ready to tear the gymnasium with him. 

  
He smiled at the two, pushing Hewley as Rhapsodos spun in the air, adding the currents of the wind blows into his strike. It was becoming a little obvious as to where their strengths laid. Rhapsodos took advantage of his lean form, striking with agility and dodged with his rather good speed, and Hewley had the benefit of his enhanced power, able to withstand more attacks that would’ve crippled a regular man, and could crush an opponent if he wanted to. 

  
The two were so well co-ordinated, one would think they fought side by side often. This couldn’t have been their first time. 

  
When the two brought their blades up and made a cross slash that was blocked by his katana, he decided to pry.

  
“Have you both ever fought in a battle before?”

  
The two glanced at each other before shaking their heads. 

  
“Not a battle, but we did spar from time to time.” Hewley answered for them, “right now, we’re just going by what feels right.”

  
“You’re feeling right.. I can sense a great fighting spirit in the two of you.” He complimented, smiling wide and so true. His body pumped with excitement as the three whipped their blades in an attempt to harm one another. It was surely something else altogether. 

  
Smirk growing as their fighting spirit only expanded in quadrants, he deflected Rhapsodos’ incoming blade before pulling him by the arm and hurling him at Angeal. That took the two by surprise—Rhapsodos in particular who gasped as he was pulled awfully close for a second there. 

  
Yeah, definitely inexperienced in the battlefield. 

  
“Thanks, Geal,” he muttered, and Sephiroth resisted a snicker at the sight of it. Angeal dropped his weapon to avoid it from lodging into Rhapsodos, catching him like a baseball player would when the ball flies too high. The two were tight-knit, that was for sure. How far their strength went.. Sephiroth’s curiosity piqued even more. 

  
He didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want to kill them but see how far they could go. How much damage they could give or take?

  
The two didn’t shift from their position, appearing calculative— eyes on the blade in his hand that awaited their next strike. From the way they were watching every breath he took, he found that they were strategizing a way to weave a string of attacks that wouldn’t be as easy to pick off as he was, swatting them like flies. 

  
The boy was overjoyed to see the effort, to say the least. His heart thundered eagerly, anticipating the two to come up with something difficult—they had the strength and intelligence to deliver. Sephiroth did know not to expect too much from two children who were making sure they didn’t lethally harm him—and were making sure they didn’t die trying either. 

  
He couldn’t possibly kill them now, he’d lose the very things he’s just gotten. And the silver-haired one didn’t take well to losing what he possessed, knowing they were the first that were his.

  
Nothing was ever _his_ until now. 

  
“Don’t disappoint me now, boys.” He provoked, raising a hand in a ‘come hither’ gesture, smile wide and excited. A little too excited.

  
“Oh, we won’t.” Rhapsodos smirked back, sweetness etching in his honeyed tone, shifting away from his friend to kneel down, taking up his blade. 

  
By the boy’s movement, Sephiroth couldn’t tell if he was preparing for another direct attack or something more. His posture was off, too passive for someone who was ready to drop a barrage of slashes. Glancing at Hewley who was almost mimicking the action of picking up his blade, Sephiroth’s eyes caught that boy preparing to attack.

  
The way his feet put a distance between one another, hands clutching the blade in careful force, Sephiroth readied his blade for the powerful strikes of the slightly older boy. It took a step to the side, just one slide of his foot to lose sight of Rhapsodos. Instead, what came to his attention was a fiery ball of energy, bright orange and round—a fire ball!

  
Snickering, he slicked through the flame with ease before shifting to a frown. Pathetic blade… it was already affected, melting a bit by the small fire just now. Masamune would not fall that easily.. Masamune was also not an option when he didn’t want to impale his only friends and dye them in crimson blood. 

  
If they are going to use flames, he would have to use it, though. This blade is not going to hold the wrath of the pyre that he suspected came from Rhapsodos. 

  
Having no materia on his side, he clicked his tongue when the splay of fireworks came his way. Throwing the katana in the direction of the flames like a dart, he rolled from the hot projectiles to wield Masamune. He barely intercepted the broadsword that came his way. 

  
Ah, so the show of fire was a diversion for Hewley. 

He smiled at Hewley who met his gaze, returning the gesture, if not tightly.

  
“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, applying force onto the place once he found his balance. As Hewley’s blade came down, Sephiroth knew he was at a slight disadvantage if he were to try and reel the boy back. A more effective move was to let his blade come down, make a small hop as he anticipated more flames coming down by Rhapsodos.

  
Unless he was going to backhand him. 

  
Taking that risk, he slipped by Hewley, instead of jumping away from him, he took a sly step to the right and pointed Masamune to the boy’s neck—by the blunt end as the broadsword made a loud cut to the ground. Watching Hewley going from determined to a slight flinch at the suddenly compromising situation had Sephiroth sneer. 

  
At least, he knew he was cornered. 

  
As expected, Rhapsodos was going to assist his friend no matter how he could, and Sephiroth was pleased to see him be upfront about it rather than hiding in the shadows. Flames were hurled straight at him, visible to Sephiroth and in warning.

  
_Stay away from Angeal!_

  
Smirk refusing to leave, he shifted his elongated blade from Hewley’s neck and slashed away at the small balls of fire that ran his way, finding the auburn-haired boy in the air, diving down at him. He struggled to stay in place as Hewley did, but that moment he took to protect his best friend when a potential of mortal danger rose to him was admirable. It was too rare of a sight for allies to guard another at the cost of their own safety.

  
He could sense Hewley making his move as soon as he found Rhapsodos bouncing back, landing on his heeled feet and slightly shaken. It only made sense, they only sparred with loads of holding themselves back to prevent injuries. This could be the first time they fought to avoid true defeat in the name of drawing their blood.

They were battling life and death in here, and Sephiroth was sure they knew that. The boy took in sharp breaths to steady himself. His voice however, held the same composure it did a moment ago.

  
“As in you drawing your _Masamune_? Then yes, that’s just what we wanted.” The oldest of the three ran a hand across his forehead, wiping sweat off his brow. Sephiroth closed his eyes, letting his blade dance a little with Hewley’s, waiting for that boy to throw away this toy sword in favour of the beautiful Buster Sword.

He could tell Rhapsodos was a step away from using Rapier. The silver-haired boy supposed he favoured showing off his magical prowess, allowing Hewley the spotlight, or for him to do the dirty work while he did the fancy moves. As he awaited the broadsword wielder to whirl another attack, he found the old blade he was handed latched onto the wall, melting. 

  
Well, at least that didn’t catch their heads. That would’ve been disappointing. 

  
All three of them were ready for an onslaught of attacks, breaths greedily taken in as if they would not have another chance. They were preparing themselves for exploding this room with earthshattering yells of their blades—and magic if Rhapsodos insists. So ready to make a battlefield out of the gymnasium. 

  
And get their butts kicked by the authorities once they find out three students _destroyed the room after schooling hours._

  
Heaving a deep sigh, Sephiroth lowered his blade, finding Hewley do the same, posture still and stiff. It seemed that the latter came to his senses, finding himself wondering why they were trying to hurt the silver-haired male. They were merely testing each other’s’ skills, no? There was no harm in that…

  
Sephiroth was more or less amused, in fact.. he’s never felt such interest in sparring with anyone until now.

  
“What’s the hold-up, Angeal?” Rhapsodos inquired, auburn brow raised in contrary to his action of throwing the sword somewhere near the box where it came from. “Just remembered your code of honour?”

  
“Yeah.. we shouldn’t be doing this. We could’ve gotten hurt!”

  
And Sephiroth found himself and Rhapsodos sharing a frown at that.

  
“Geal, we were sparring. Seeing how skilled our fair-haired friend is.” Dismissive as he was being, it was a surprise that he willingly discarded himself of his weapon. There was an unsettled fire in that boy’s soul that Sephiroth could feel, so different from the iced cool of Hewley. The two complemented one another so well, it was a perfectly forged bond. Fate bound, as some would call it. 

  
If it was handled well, the two would be unstoppable. Fire and ice worked well to create covenants when they met together in harmony. If it was done with finesse (as he could see Rhapsodos taking a liking to that word), it could become the driving force behind the end of a war. 

  
And do not mistaken it, as Rhapsodos had a beast in him that was tamed by his friend, Hewley was no stranger to that. He merely hid it better, cushioned it to appear like a tall, proud animal rather than a raging demon. Sephiroth could see it in the blaze of his blue eyes that it was resting, and yet, so ready to pounce at the call.

  
If Rhapsodos needed it. 

  
“Gen, if he was serious, we would’ve died.” The raven-haired boy heaved a sigh, running his gloved fingers around his temples in frustration, “we’ve underestimated him—look, he didn’t even break a sweat.”

  
Well.. that was true as it was untrue. The silver-haired male took that moment to note that the two students in front of him were heaving heavy breaths, their posture weakening even with that resolve that hadn’t dimmed in the slightest. He himself did break into a small sweat by the flames that singed strands of his hair, it wasn’t the same. 

  
Hewley did have a point about theirs being more noticeable. Rhapsodos’ auburn-hair was starting to cling to his face, somehow not poking his eyes, and Hewley had sheen of sweat down his short-sleeved arms. The two were not war veterans, they were mere students who were getting around to using their blades and currently enhancing bodies, it was completely understandable to be straining their efforts against one who only knew of a battlefield. 

  
“All hail Sephiroth?” the chuckle that escaped the auburn boy was so bitter, Sephiroth heard and tasted nothing but a poison rolling on his tongue. He supposed Rhapsodos believed his Rome would’ve been built in a day, and the disappointment came from reality slapping him that it was entirely impossible. 

  
_Whoops. But you know as they say, dreams do die._

  
It was here where Rhapsodos pointed that crimson blade at him. Offering a sneer, the boy stood there, blade pointed and glaring into green eyes. Sephiroth made no motion to shift the ruby blade at him, almost inviting it to poke his throat—give him a clue of his resolution.

  
“Just mark my words, Seph.. we are going down together. We too, will become heroes.”

Lowering the blade, the boy flicked auburn bangs before taking a peek at the clock with furrowed brows. Hewley followed his gaze and his eyes widened—must’ve not expected such a long time spent in the gymnasium. Ten minutes wasn’t long, was it? 

  
“We’ve been in here for _two hours_?” He exclaimed, and for a moment, even Sephiroth’s eyes widened. That couldn’t possibly be two hours in the gymnasium. Two hours was the equivalent of fighting two entire platoons, not two children!

  
“Wow,” was all he could respond with. Time flies when there is the thing called ‘fun’ involved. 

  
“We’re going to be in so much trouble tomorrow.” Hewley sulked as Rhapsodos began to giggle.

  
“Oh well. We’re screwed whether we did this or not,” Sephiroth found the boy meeting his eyes, and he elaborated, “they recommended training for the ones who were showing signs of evolving due to the—”

  
The boy clicked his tongue, “the drugs they were injecting in us. If we didn’t find some way to adjust to it, they were going to sanction both Angeal and me.”

  
“Sanction?”

  
Hewley’s stare landed on his friend, wide and apprehensive. Rhapsodos paid no heed to it, closing his eyes with a low mutter of a laugh. A huff was more appropriate, for it was a rough puff of air. 

  
“They’re keeping a close eye on us ‘crazy ones’.” Cerulean eyes narrowed onto him, and Sephiroth found that he couldn’t read the baby blue that reflected the sky’s light, so hollow. “They likely know that we’re here as we chat along.. they’re waiting for the right moment to strike us down.”

  
“Strike us down? Genesis, what are you talking about?” Hewley stepped in this time, glaring at the boy with intense blue eyes, “there’s no way they would be so dishonourable and do that! We’re their students, their futures.. their shining light!”

  
“That’s what they want you to believe, Angeal.” Rhapsodos flicked his gaze to the side, side-long glancing at his friend. “How about you tell me.. what do they do with soldiers who are insubordinate?” 

  
For a moment, Sephiroth wanted to intervene on this, tell the raven-haired boy that the latter had read too many books on fictional characters and was confusing it for reality. The way the boy’s eyes reflected so much pain at the words his auburn friend spat with such venom. There was a punching feeling in his gut that he should.. _lie._

  
Having lived his entire life in ShinRa, not as a student but as the prized saviour of it, he knew Rhapsodos was not wrong. For a fourteen—fifteen-year-old boy who only spent a silver of a year in the Midgar community, he was frankly quite surprised by how much he picked up. 

  
“Those who have power given by a higher up.. when they do not swear allegiance, what is the best course of action?” ‘ _they were shot a dog’s death_ ’ were the unspoken words that floated through Sephiroth’s mind instantly, eyes widening slightly at the fact that.. _they didn’t know that?_

  
Was he friends with the Student Council? They were only privy to this kind of information. 

  
Judging by the way Hewley’s hands ran through his jet-black locks, he wasn’t taking it well. Perhaps, had it been a different topic that Rhapsodos was lacing with such cynicism, he would’ve taken it better.

  
It didn’t seem like the first time the auburn-haired boy spoke like this. He’s thought it through, and thoroughly. 

  
“Sephiroth, can you believe what he’s spouting out of his mouth? About the place you’ve known all your life?” 

  
He could’ve sworn that Hewley was going to turn around and walk away, escape from the situation for he had no words left for the pessimistic friend of his, but for him to refer to him as if he should’ve been offended by the off-handed beliefs that Rhapsodos held…

  
What was he expecting? For him to run his blade through the insolent boy’s heart or punch those seemingly soft features?

  
“Don’t you care about it? This is your _home_!” he was yelling at this point, informing the youngest of the trio that he cherished the idea of family and bonds. Then again.. ‘honour’ was something that uttered from him quite a bit.

  
And the genius that he was, only answered, “I haven’t considered it.”

  
That almost certain statement earnt him a break of laughter from Rhapsodos. While it was meant to be lively, or a tease that would have him join the boy in his chuckling, there was something that kept Sephiroth from doing so. It wasn’t Hewley’s glare as it was the break in the boy’s breath that was akin to a sob.

  
He was not laughing the way he’s heard his father laugh, or the way he heard the boy do when they were in class and someone made an ‘incredibly student comment’. It had Sephiroth frown, run his teeth over his rosy lip and furrow a brow. The boy’s friend—his friend had a reaction similar, shock so evident he could point at it. 

  
“Even the so-called Prodigy is not happy here!” lowering his head, auburn bangs shielded the expression that adorned the boy’s face. With the way his hair shuffled to the side, Sephiroth knew he was glowering at Hewley. “How do you expect us to be happy here, serving our superiors like good little doggies? Honour and candour? Bull to the s—”

  
He swore boldly, that mellow, sassy and yet welcoming demeanor replaced with the flip of a switch to a cruel, depressing chasm that Sephiroth found more honest than anything else. While he couldn’t meet the eyes of the boy, while his features were far from revealing, he held more truths now than he did earlier where the only true point he made was that they are friends.

  
_Us_. 

  
It reminded him of his guardian, Vincent. That kind, brooding young man who Sephiroth was growing to appreciate a thousand times more than his own father. Though, to put Rhapsodos—the haughty young student who happened to be pretty intelligent and slightly vain on the same level as that man was enough to bring a hiccup of laughter through Sephiroth’s repressed throat. 

  
He couldn’t think of laughing here and now, not when Hewley was breathing so heavy, it resembled a soldier ready to murder someone. That someone being either him or his best friend.

  
Would he really lift his hand against him? 

  
Before he could receive the answer to his more cautious friend’s actions, Rhapsodos strapped Rapier to his back and stepped away from the two. He was exiting the gymnasium with the stride of someone who wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to do. Was he torn between apologizing or antagonizing? The silver-haired one couldn’t really tell. There seems to be so much that he has yet to know about his friends.

  
_Never_ has he seen or heard Hewley shout before. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have a great weekend.  
> Drowning incident is not a head canon, it’s loosely based off what happened to Gackt one time. Tumblr's the link above and Twitter is the same username as it.


	9. “Gold boy” of ShinRa Academy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continues Chapter 8’s abrupt ending. (Past). Bonding between Banorashipping, and then Vince’s POV.
> 
> It's cute and soft. I overuse that word, but it applies well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Plot.. what is plot? This book writes itself at this point.  
> \- Since chapter 16 is in the drafts, I will let you know that some things do get a little messy, for lack of better word.  
> Nonetheless, this is fun to write, so we'll see how far it goes.
> 
> Anywho, Happy reading~

\--

When the two dormitory mates met again, the younger of the two wasn’t sure what to expect. He had a rather difficult time taking in the harshness of his friend’s opinions, the fact that his other friend refused to disagree on it. He wasn’t sure what was worse among the two: that Genesis and Sephiroth were pessimists with difficult lives, or that Genesis’ points were logically sound. 

  
Make no mistake: Genesis was no fool, but logic was not his best suite. It was more of his best friend’s speciality: Angeal’s.

  
Here Angeal was the one who appeared like the idealistic fool and Genesis was the logical one who had to put reason before dreams. The adamance in his glower as he spilled such venom, the tightly held beliefs in that book he was so swallowed within, engrossed in prose and negativities, foolish speculations of a fictional goddess’ gift…

  
He wasn’t sure if LOVELESS was drilled into his head to the point that it was becoming his life’s Bible, or the fact that their lives really was that enigmatic novel. 

  
“Angeal,” the older tore through the dredges of silence, bright cerulean eyes bearing into his and Angeal frowned at the sight of it. Regret etched his rather pretty features, teeth gnawing onto his lip and frown deep as his smiles when it was a good day. The boy sought solace in him, apologizing through those eyes that stared into his, hands curled on his lap with uncertainty, bangs shying from his face. 

  
For that moment again, he appeared so vulnerable. It reminded Angeal that he was honestly and for truly, so very _afraid_. His home didn’t have room for him, ShinRa Academy had him on a register which they could erase at any given moment, no sibling to reach out to, no friend that could understand that unspoken turmoil than Angeal himself.

  
And Angeal was willing to hear him out. This boy took him under his wing so early in his life when all but discarded him. This boy appreciated him despite their contradicting viewpoints, validated him when his mother had been the only one to do so. 

  
“I don’t want my opinion of this place change what we have..” auburn hair began to shield those eyes as he gazed downward with a sigh, “you’re all I have, ‘Geal. I don’t want to lose you because of what I…”

  
And he didn’t need to finish that sentence. Rather, he wasn’t permitted when strong arms wrapped around his mid-section, one hand staying to his waist and the other running onto the scalp of auburn locks. The raven-haired boy didn’t speak, didn’t have a need to respond, gave no reply as his body offered enough of what the boy sought. 

  
He believed it more when his smaller hands clawed at his back, resting his head on his shoulder. How very much a weary little kitten he appeared to be; it compelled the younger of the two to smile. No matter how independent Genesis may seem, no matter how he oozes with confidence in his strut, in his spell-work and spars, how his literary knowledge knew no bounds.. he was a mess without Angeal. 

  
He needed him more than any other live human being. 

  
There was a reason why he chose no one to his calling, despite the million pairs of eyes that gazed his way, the shy confessions, the hands that crept over his shoulder, or the sweet nothings whispered into his ear. He did not trust anyone to pick up the pieces if he laid himself bare. 

  
With Angeal, there was no pretending to be that confident, beautiful and strong boy. With Angeal, he could simply be that boy who didn’t really know much of social cues, the boy who shrunk to himself as his parents refused to offer him the love he sought day after day. The boy who had no use for worldly possessions as it was a tactic to silence his woes, who wanted to confide into someone he could cut out his heart to and not have it stomped upon. 

  
With Angeal, he was simply himself. A boy who knew his knack for learning, a lover of nature and all it has in store, a kinda awkward fellow who happened to have a wealthy outlook due to his parents. A dedicated and goodness gracious—competitive as hell, only because he found it as a way of making his mark in the world that dithered away from him. 

  
“Gen, just because you don’t like the Academy’s ways doesn’t mean you’ll lose me..” he had to resist a laugh as it sounded funnier the second time he mulled over Genesis’ woes, his fear that Angeal would turn his back on him just because of a difference in opinion? Just how petty of a friend does he think he is? “Besides, that’d be pretty stupid.”

  
“You were really upset when I spoke against it..”

  
“I was just in shock, alright? I still don’t believe it, but I won’t let that stand between us.” A smile splayed his face as he added, “besides, if I spoke about LOVELESS the way you did about ShinRa, you’d be mad and say I don’t appreciate the beauty of literature.”

  
Parting slightly from the younger friend, the auburn-haired boy’s grip lightened as the subject took a lighter turn. A smile crept up his forlorn face, soft features scrunching as he began to giggle. It was a kind little gesture, so small and yet so genuine. 

  
“Well, that’s true.”

  
It was then Angeal found that he’d much rather have Genesis smiling and berating than be so huddled in his self-hatred that stood under him like a shadow.

  
The shy smile fled in that motion of a couple of seconds, and the boy returned to a little frown. It wasn’t out of disappointment. Genesis found it was inappropriate to be shrugging off the brevity of what needed to be said. 

  
“Don’t bear it against me?”

  
His mind knew the sentiment truly meant: _I’m sorry, Angeal._

  
“I won’t.” Angeal couldn’t help but keep a grin. “Don’t bear it against me if I insult LOVELESS in the near future?”

  
He could tell the boy was resisting a huff as he gave a nod in response. 

  
“Then you don’t have to worry about a thing, Gen.” He ran his hand around slightly damp auburn bangs. Must’ve showered after their sparring session—he had a change in clothes, no longer wearing those black undershirts he’s seen him wear for the past… how many years did he even wear clothes like that for? 

  
A pair of his uniform was placed in a hamper to be washed over the weekend, and the boy was cladded in a black V-neck shirt whose sleeves were long enough to brush over his palms. Both wore black slacks that were comfortable enough to sleep in—reminding Angeal that it was late hours, so they were meant to retire for the night. Angeal’s shirt was a pale blue, short sleeves once more for ease of movement—he claimed. 

  
Genesis’ eyes flickered up for a moment before shifting down, calmer than the stiff shakiness he had before he confronted Angeal.

  
“I do worry about Sephiroth.” It was a murmur, given the boy’s voice naturally being on the undertones. The raven-haired boy caught onto it quickly. His fingers parted from the back of his friend to return to his lap. “Living his entire life in this cubicle too small for him.”

  
There was a pause as he heaved a sigh as if he hadn’t breathed before. “It has me wondering, how lonely must he be?”

  
“Y’think they ever let him out, Gen?” With how wary he felt as he threw the question over, he realized how it was so close to walking on eggshells with Sephiroth. That boy glanced at them with such a foreign wonder—with the innocence of a child who had no idea of what the Planet even was. It was only when they were sparring when it appeared like he had a grasp on a concept. 

  
“I’m certain they don’t.” And Genesis’ answer only reinforced the latter point. “The boy only knows the blade, but basic interaction is out of his league.”

  
“What.. what can we do for him?” His heart sank for the youngest of the trio. The years where the silver-haired lad should’ve been nestled in the warm comfort of the mother, where he should be in the father’s strong arms learning how to piece constructs.. he was sure that Sephiroth had nothing close to it. It wasn’t an offhanded thought to think all he was given was a blade and drugs to make him a strong warrior.

  
This was a military school; they were child soldiers under the guise of intelligent and “potential filled students”. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the one who brought them to these grounds was a prime victim of this treatment. Angeal only hoped his life did not surround a lab. 

  
It was too cruel for a child. Judging by the curiosity so evident and ever staying on those green eyes, Angeal had a hope that it was only due to being sheltered all his life, rather than a toy to a corporation. 

  
Genesis was mulling over the very idea—scowl clear and seething. It was wrong even in his standards—which well.. wasn’t saying much if one knew Genesis Rhapsodos. He had a big heart for the youth as much as he had little tolerance for them. Even he had a line drawn between glory and dishonour. Exploiting a child for reputation and wealth threw him into a pit of fiery rage.

  
And Angeal would know that it was with this anger that Genesis could really kill someone, just as he could with his enhanced strength. 

  
“We’ll stay by his side, Angeal. He needs us whether he knows or not.” Bright blue jumped to him and the conviction in the beautiful cerulean was amazing. Genesis was dead set on helping Sephiroth, be it with or without ShinRa Academy’s support, with or without his parent’s acceptance. 

  
As the two knew, his parents would not like the boy as a human. 

  
The boy’s eyes that were perfect windows to his soul shown Angeal that he was the only one he cared for. Angeal’s approval was all he wanted and no one more. If the Planet didn’t have a heart for Sephiroth, then all could quite so eloquently “screw themselves”.

  
Genesis really sounded like a hero that Angeal found him to be. 

  
“I’m with you.” He wanted to affirm, knowing full well that Genesis was going to have him stand by his side, but needed to vocalize it—for Genesis to hear straight from him.

  
And the sentiment was appreciated greatly. Those cerulean eyes that were so resolved on ‘saving’ Sephiroth were gleaming, the little flush over his cheeks as he smiled full at him, teeth bearing. Genesis was overjoyed to hear it.

  
That’s all what mattered to Angeal.

  
“Oh Angeal..” how his voice dipped with tenderness only when they were alone as if it was exclusive to him and him only.. the smaller but older boy rose to his feet, causing the bed to creak and rise from its contracted press. Angeal’s eyes were glued to Genesis who rose a bit on his tip-toes to reach his forehead and brushed it with soft rosy lips. “Do you have any idea how much that means to me?”

  
And while Angeal didn’t want to offer a jest, he countered with a smile, allowing Genesis to bask in the comfort of the younger but growing boy. “Do you know how much you mean to me?”

  
“How much, ‘Geal?” it was a mutter, so softly endearing as Genesis rested his head near Angeal’s heart.

  
“That I would go against my code of honour for you.”

  
And the insinuation of that statement was too bold for Genesis’ liking. While keeping it hidden, Angeal was so close, he felt how he went still for a good second. The boy swore but spoke no more in favour of resting in his childhood friend’s arms.

  
Angeal took the quietness with gratitude, unsure what could’ve been addressed. 

  
\--

The middle one of the trio found himself sighing in relief. It was no joke that they have dodged several bullets.

  
Of course, the Student Council found out they were messing around in the Gymnasium. When Genesis insinuated that they were closely watched due to being two students with rapid growths and hanging out with the prodigy, they had to explain themselves quite well as to why they broke school policies. 

  
Now, Angeal knew there was a ‘no horsing around after school hours’ and the ‘must be in your dormitory by 21:00 hours’ rule, but he wasn’t aware of the rules regarding Sephiroth. They were never told of a rule that stated they could not waste Sephiroth’s valuable time. Nothing told them about how they couldn’t spar with the golden boy of ShinRa Academy.

  
And apparently, there were rules like that. Angeal was sure they were unwritten rules for it was not in his handbook. The boy feverishly reads his handbook to retain good character—it was his moral compass. He couldn’t have missed a minute detail!

  
Times like these.. he was grateful that Genesis was a bit of a manipulative bastard. His display of feigned innocence was too realistic to be considered inattentive or foolish. When they were taken to Principal ShinRa by order of the Student Council President, Lazard, his friend pleaded that they were not aware due to their assigned training regime after schooling hours. They managed to get Mr. Heidegger support their cause, claiming that it was for the public safety if they did train themselves with Sephiroth who had experience in the battlefield. 

  
It shouldn’t have been surprising that Genesis had a way with words, but boy… he really did have a freaking shrewd tactic!

  
Much to their horror, it was the first time they met Sephiroth’s father. Goddess.. what a frightening fellow he was. Sinewy and thin yet tall and imposing to the barely 5’4” boys. Serpentine was the best way to describe that slippery creature. It was better than referring him in the term Genesis likened to, a “freak of nature”, no matter how much Angeal was in agreement. 

  
That man had the most objections, none of which were considered once a beautiful and tall man came to the picture. Vincent Valentine—Sephiroth’s current guide and caretaker, and Mr. Heidegger and his public reputation that could bring ShinRa Academy to a jeopardy if the rugged man deemed it unsafe. 

  
Now Vincent Valentine.. that man had a close semblance to Sephiroth. It caught Genesis’ gaze throughout the whole meeting—in fact, he was probably the only one besides Angeal that the boy didn’t glare at or slip a curse under his tongue to. "Tall, dark and handsome" was a good way to classify him, with soft jet-black hair that was extending down his neck with soft strokes, crimson eyes that narrowed and almost stared straight into their souls—drew Genesis like a moth to the flame, and poured shivers down Angeal’s spine every time. Wearing a gabardine suit, the contrast between he and Doctor Hojo were night and day. 

  
That man sided with them, giving better exposition on Sephiroth’s feelings on their interaction than his own father. Vincent felt trustworthy with how he carried himself so straightforward and unafraid. When the meeting was coming to an end, and when Genesis smiled, leaning back on the wooden chair with relief and victor, Angeal found himself smiling at Vincent. 

  
If he was there by Sephiroth’s side, he would grow up to become an excellent human being. 

  
Instead of being dismissed with a punishment, a Restraining Order for Sephiroth or reconditioning in the infirmary due to their “seemingly unstable bodies” as Doctor Hojo put it, they were encouraged to stay by Sephiroth’s side whenever he requested it. Just how lucky was that? Bless that Vincent, and well.. Mr. Heidegger too. His help was immense. 

  
The Principal had them return to their dormitory for the weekend, claiming that if they found a way to control their still new power, it didn’t matter what they were going to do—they were pretty much on a scale similar to Sephiroth in his eyes: quick-learning gifted students. Those needed to be protected and propagated as much as possible. 

  
Vincent guided them out, offering a tiny smile when Angeal and Genesis showered him with praise and gratitude. Unlike the public reputation, Genesis was not below feeling thankful to others. In fact, when he felt the need, he would offer lots, acknowledge their help and want to do better. 

  
Though, that didn’t mean the Chaperone took it well. When the two were displaying their amazement over his skill in getting the Principal to turn the other cheek, he was hiding his face from them, either using the long bangs to cover like a veil as Sephiroth often did or ran a hand on his face. 

  
He didn’t want to show them he was blushing. 

  
What Genesis and Angeal didn’t expect was the rather stiff and professional man to smile small at them and say:

  
“Thank you for being Sephiroth’s friends.” In such a gentle manner, it was a father’s pat the head that the two lacked in their lives. The two children were caught gawking, eyes wide and demure as five-year-olds. 

  
Sephiroth was in good hands if they were Vincent’s. 

-

Vincent could not prevaricate that he was responsible for Sephiroth’s repositioning from a child soldier to a mere student of the Academy. In fact, he would accept it even now that it was the better decision—why make a child’s life non-existent for growth in business? There was no infant who should be living the life he was. At first, that was the driving force behind placing him in the Academy, keeping Masamune at a distance the boy couldn’t reach until he was given permission to wield it. 

  
The fact that this very child, with no melanin in his little body, green as life eyes and hair spun in the moon’s silk was his son gave more reason to do this. He didn’t know this boy was his child—having never seen his lover Lucrecia after she resigned from her position as Counsellor of the ShinRa Academy. He hadn’t gotten a word from her until years ago from Hojo that she had died in childbirth, after he wed her in secret. 

  
For all that time, Doctor Hojo claimed that it was his son that she had birthed, and Vincent had no factual proof that the DNA was his—he was not permitted under the Academy rules and outside to verify as Doctor Hojo was certified as a professional in the medical field. Vincent was merely an agent of the Academy, not one of Mr. Heidegger’s, but one of the bodyguards of the Principal. 

  
What’s more, he was still considered a bit of a green-horn, despite being similar age to Veld who was recruited the same time as he. 

  
Doctor Hojo raised his son in the ShinRa Militia program, one reserved only for individuals who were not capable of affording the Academic program or had power that needed to be tapped to awaken, to become part of the force that protect the growing Academy. Sephiroth had overflowing potential for becoming a perfect soldier—Hojo’s words, not his. The Principal allowed this for the years Vincent did not know that boy was his. It only came to his attention when he was researching the records of the soldiers who fought for the Academy—who were sent to Wutai to stop a potential war. 

  
Sephiroth was one of the few who were sent out—the first time Vincent ever saw his boy. Doctor Hojo had his information tightly secured while the rest for open for viewing. That puzzled the shrewd agent, and it compelled him to do a little tweaking in the system to gain access to the strange boy’s profile. Why was his the only one that was hidden among the list of individuals? Why was Sephiroth so young in the army?

  
A bit of configuring went a long way, and there he found the file that former Medical head Gast Faremis had left behind. On that file, there was a mention of a discovery. A finding of a strange drug that enhanced sensory characteristics, a sort of tonic that could tap deep down inside the inner soul of the person and bring out their innermost weapon. Vincent assumed it had to do with the conscience’s shape and form as often, those injected with this “drug” had spasms of pain coursing through them before they grew animalistic—they turned insane and had to be sedated. 

  
Reading the further documents supporting this peculiar information, he found that Sephiroth was the only one who didn’t have any ill effects save for physical features differing from the regular. Why he didn’t have Vincent’s jet-black hair or Lucrecia’s bright eyes was the fault of this mutation, of the drug that they injected in his son without his consent. 

  
Vincent had to double-take as he perused through the restricted files, ruby eyes shutting for a good moment before remembering.. he wouldn’t have another time for this—he had to read this before he gets discharged. He too, had to resist a need to load Doctor Hojo’s head with a bullet—he took his child and killed Lucrecia before she could let the truth come to pass. 

  
She never resigned; it was a cover-up!

  
So, this was a punishment for her—for her adoration to a “nobody” that Doctor Hojo was adamant on calling. It was true that the Academy had no idea that Vincent was dating her before she wed that goddess awful Hojo. Sephiroth was the fruit of his loins and he was never given the permission to see him.

  
Well, things were going to change starting now. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t involve a bullet to the head, but it did take clever persuasion. When the Student Council heard of children entering battlefields such as Wutai or managing the Junon cannon, they were flabbergasted. Convincing Lazard, the kind to a fault President was a walk in the park when the photos came up. The blond boy was shocked to see someone of his age was battling for his life. To have him create a petition to forbid young individuals under 18 to enlist in the Militia program worked like a charm.

  
Then there were those two other students who caught his attention—tending to Sephiroth in his somehow near dead state. He had to say, it was perfectly orchestrated. A happy coincidence—morbidly happy, that was his son we’re talking here… Anyroad, morbid coincidence that his son was laying on the cold grounds of December, bleeding from head to toe in unruly clothing, and the two students finding him—paging Mr. Heidegger who then came around, exclaiming that it wouldn’t be good if the government found child soldiers in their big company they financed. 

  
His request to transfer Sephiroth worked despite Hojo’s objection. For once, he had the entirety of the staff support his reasoning. None of them knew of his connection to that boy save for the damned Doctor, not even his fellow Doctor Hollander who personally took it upon himself to protect the two students who found Sephiroth. 

  
Why? Vincent wasn’t sure. Maybe he was their long-lost father like he was to the silver-haired boy. At least, he could understand if Hewley—the one with the black hair, was related to the stout Doctor in some way. 

  
The Academic branch were all in agreement that Vincent would foresee the Academic progress for Sephiroth, trusting him to keep him out of the battlefield. Sure, it meant their defenses were a little weak, but it gave legroom for promoting their Militia—now students who became adults and passed their schooling were allowed to enlist to serve their country.

  
Many happily did. 

  
Besides, they needed to make sure Sephiroth lived through all this. They could not discard their most prized possession when students joined the military in his honour, studied under the roof of ShinRa because of him and him only. 

  
So, in Cole's notes… that was how he got to get his son back into his care, where he belonged. 

The first day his little son returned from class, he had to admit, there was a foreign sense of excitement upon seeing his return, a curiosity he wasn’t even sure he had until now. The sight of his son—his child had overtaken all his rational thoughts. This was a product of his, of his love and Lucrecia’s. A beautiful, beautiful little baby boy he longed to have ages ago, since he was a wee 20-year-old. Now 34 years of age, he finally got to interact with this boy. 

  
And golly, he didn’t even know where to start. Should he bundle his little son up in his arms, should he keep a distance from the one—the last remains of his heartfelt love..?

  
Those eyes that didn’t warm up to him, stared at him as he would a stranger, so wary and unsure if he should draw his blade and point it at him, or lunge at him and claw his throat with his bare hands..

  
He settled for a distant approach, keeping in mind that Sephiroth had no knowledge that this was his father.

“How was your first day, Sephiroth?” he was grateful his voice didn’t betray him, showing nothing but care that a teacher would put to a student, and not a father so darned happy to see his son. 

  
“I..” his son didn’t meet his eyes, removing the black blazer of his uniform before letting the white dress-shirt’s first few buttons open. “Do I have permission to speak in a negative connotation?”

  
At this, Vincent’s eyes widened. Just why was he treating it as if he was offering a report? Sure, that was something that he needed to do as a member of the army, but now… 

  
“Sephiroth, I want you to speak whatever is on your mind. Do not fear for any reaction.” He added quickly, “or lack, thereof.”

  
“What is.. in my mind?” the child rolled those very words on his tongue, contemplative of it all. Vincent began to wonder if he wasn’t given permission to speak at all. “It was something else… being in an Academy.”

  
Vincent gave a little nod as Sephiroth rested on the large bed, wadding though his backpack to pull a book out—a notebook where the older male presumed he wrote all details of the day in. 

  
“I am accustomed to giving and taking orders, but here… the peers spoke arrogantly,” the boy’s brows furrowed, and Vincent found himself sharing the same expression in horror of what his son witnessed. “I was ready to wring their necks out.”

  
“You didn’t…” his response was a strangled mutter, breathing catching in his throat involuntarily. Sephiroth met his gaze and shook his head.

  
“It took a lot of restraint not to,” then those green eyes softened, “there were two students who kept me from doing that.”

  
“They are Rhapsodos and Hewley.. correct? You made mentions of these two a couple of days ago.” Vincent earnt a tiny little smile from him. 

  
“Yes, those two.. I do like.”

  
“Do you dislike the transfer to this program?” he had to know in case he’d gotten his son out of his comfort zone into some place worse. If Sephiroth truly liked the life in the warzone, Vincent could not deny him of his desire. 

  
Even if fear of his well-being would consume him. 

  
To his relief and rather joy, the boy shook his head after a second of having his gaze roam around the ground. “I do not like many of my peers, but I do like to understand..” 

  
As he trailed on, Vincent watched with intent eyes how his son’s relaxed posture grew stern, “fighting all these years has deprived me of human reason. I cannot communicate my true sentiment as I do not know how to process it.”

  
“And this program will assist you in doing so?”

  
Will it help in opening his heart that was closed and sealed for so long?

  
“Not the program.. but the two people there..” he met his gaze, “I have never seen individuals who didn’t flail around and yet have such flair. They were not afraid of me—” the boy’s eyes widened as he shifted, “one of them wasn’t.”

  
“Only one?” At this, Vincent raised a brow. Surely, it may have not been fear that they all should feel, but admiration, hesitation and inferiority were understandable feelings to have when it came to the battle-weary Sephiroth. Was the peer underestimating him? Harassing him by playing around his lack of knowledge around his emotions?

  
Sephiroth caught him brooding and smiled once more, this time a little wider. “It’s not wrong. I began to feel when he was.. open to me.”

  
Vincent perked up in intrigue. 

  
“There was a.. reaction inside of me that said, ‘I want to see this more often’.” The boy rested a hand on his chest, tone so thoughtful as it deepened, “it still does when I think about that boy. Yes, I want to see him sneer at me without making me feel.. unnecessary.”

  
“Your peers.. what did they say to you?”

  
“The others? Said I don’t belong. I am either stupid or deaf, so spoilt I don’t have an idea what ‘superiors’ are because I am on top of the world.” The deadpan that came in like a bullet train threw him off. “The only speech I know is a shriek.”

  
How Sephiroth’s tone shifted from that gentle affectionate one to a sharp stab.. Vincent felt the phantom pain in his side, although fleeting as the boy’s soft tone returned. “That boy—Rhapsodos, he entertained me before I could think of offering a demonstration of a splattered head.”

  
Thank goodness, he didn’t actually do that. 

  
“When we were introduced to Materia, he and Hewley were the only ones who stood by me,” Sephiroth’s eyes bore into his, “he is no soldier by any standard, but he wasn’t afraid of going against the entire class, choosing only Hewley and I to his team.”

  
Vincent wasn’t sure if he admired Rhapsodos for brevity of trust, or judge him as a foolish, inexperienced young boy. Sephiroth was in clear admiration, the green growing more intense as he spoke of this student. It was a first impression.. Vincent couldn’t share the sentiment until he’s seen the two students. 

  
For all he knew, they were pitying Sephiroth. 

  
“For a student to catch your eye, Sephiroth.. is he a good kid?” Sephiroth’s book went ignored on his lap, the boy favoured leaning on the headboard of his bed and facing Vincent than crane his neck around. 

  
“A good student..? What do you mean?” there were too many mechanisms that would constitute a good student. Vincent furrowed his brow, not noticing he asked a vague question until it was addressed. 

  
“Is he liked in the class? Performance during lectures..” if his son wasn’t aware of how they were supposed to carry themselves, he was alright with no reply. What surprised him was how the little boy broke into a laugh, leaning his head back with hushed little chuckles.

  
“Hardly. Peers and instructor had to difficulty resisting the urge to wring his neck,” Vincent’s eyes widened and Sephiroth snorted, “they couldn’t, knowing he answered every inquiry—he’s likely the highest in academics.” 

  
“Those could be lucky chances..” what kind of friend was Sephiroth making? That sounded like those insecure little children who take a ‘weaker’ fellow to raise their ego. He wasn’t sure if he would like seeing his son with a haughty friend like Rhapsodos. 

  
“No.. it is only my first day, and he’s taught me more than the instructors already. Literary works.. Materia production, how to handle peers who get onto my skin.. imaginative..” as he listed, he found himself at a loss of words, “thingys.”

  
Before Vincent could snicker about his use of ‘ _thingys_ ’, he continued, “every instructor valued his opinion. If he was a fool who had lucky chances, it would’ve been considered with a grain of salt. There was none of that when he wasn’t reading his book or.. talking to me.”

  
Vincent furrowed his brows another time. What was wrong with speaking with Sephiroth? He was new to the program.. shouldn’t it have been recommended that he has a guide or two to walk him through the steps? 

  
“Most of all, I have felt a rapport with he and Hewley. They didn’t seem as though they had use for me but wanted me to connect to them. He drew me in, and Hewley reassured me that it was alright.”

  
Now, he was grateful someone as confident as Rhapsodos took that initiative without instruction—Hewley too, for standing with it. So quickly Sephiroth trusted these students more than the soldiers he shared weapons with. When reading his reports and data on his son, he found that Sephiroth never really clicked with anyone—not even his brothers in arms. He fought alone with Masamune as his only partner. 

  
It took less than 24 hours for Rhapsodos and Hewley to subvert it.. now that, he could approve, hold in high esteem. 

They were trustworthy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have a great weekend.  
> Also, if you guys are interested in a discord group chat, do let me know. They could be quite amusing.


	10. Heart of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vincent’s perspective and some ASG in the end due to a bit of an oddity with Sephiroth. (Past)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, what? I missed the mark! 1000 hits? Wow, thank you all so much. What to do to celebrate.. I could make a story with the 1st Trio having to babysit Cloud, Kunsel and Zack because some strange phenomenon turned them to infants..  
> Maybe have requests open. What do you think? I open the floor to you.
> 
> \- For this one, I had a sudden need to write in Vincent’s perspective. His fatherliness is something I want to explore a little more.. we'll see a couple of more on him, I believe, and then we see why he's not in the present timeline. I tend to write pasts better than present, it seems.
> 
> Sorry for being a little sidetracked, Happy reading~

\--

To say that the caretaker was overjoyed was both an understatement and a hyperbole. 

  
He was in great relief and bursts of smiles when he heard from his son that he didn’t mind the change in scenery, the fact that he was content with the more.. physically relaxing atmosphere over the constant sight of blood, grime and the screams of death under his blade. Sure, he was dealing with children who were half-pint brats who didn’t know better, it was a night and day difference from the former life he had to live. 

  
But Vincent was also not one to express happiness in terms of.. the giddiness, or the abundance of energy that tempts him to fly across each wall. He was not that kind of person to use such associations upon. To say that he didn’t care or was completely reserved about it was also wrong. 

  
It was rather difficult not to bunch the youthful boy in his arms and tell him he was so proud to have him for a son, his offspring, the fruit of his loins by the woman he so cherished, adored, loved. Sephiroth was Lucrecia’s last rites, her final gift to him before life would take her away—before Hojo snagged and shagged the life out of her. 

  
He could never forgive that bastard, that.. sorry excuse of a human being—no, he was not human, that was a demon. Sephiroth will never have to see that fiend again, not under his watch. For the intelligent man that Professor Faremis was, he couldn’t understand why he would accept Hojo under his wing—at least Hollander, the inferior of the two, had a better head on his shoulders. While he had a good mask, Vincent could see it in his eyes that he did care for his patients. 

  
Hojo was just.. 

Time was shot like an arrow from a bow and months went by. 

  
Sephiroth was now under his care for more than half a year, and with time, the two were steadily improving. Vincent did not feel as outcasted as he started off when he was using every ounce of his will to block the urge to coddle his son, and Sephiroth was beginning to understand how to speak with expressing his thoughts rather than factual observation. Of course, it was not perfect, and the boy couldn’t articulate his feelings as well as a regular child could, but it was getting there.

  
“Vincent, tomorrow.. I am staying later at school to hang out with Hewley and Rhapsodos, is that alright with you?” the boy asked in a hushed voice, holding a fork and a knife in each hand and making his food a pile of cubes. 

  
The boy’s table-manners was still a laughing matter. The poor guy was in a debate with himself as to how he should hold a silver fork, what size was appropriate for the most efficient bite and how much he should cut into his food to enjoy. Vincent imagined that he was left with mushed up processed—could he even call it food? He didn’t have control in the slightest bit. 

  
Being here, he was finally given some autonomy. He could go wherever he wanted in Midgar, hang out with his friends, study whatever course he chose to his calling, and live in a place where cameras and needles didn’t haunt him. Moreover, outings were not limited to taking up arms and ending lives of another family.   
He finally has a say in his life, and that, Vincent was glad to be able to give. 

  
“Of course, stay as long as you like.. just don’t go where there is danger.” Lips curved into a little smile as he responded. 

  
He couldn’t deny such a request knowing Sephiroth never asked. He could trust the students: Hewley and Rhapsodos. While he never had the chance to properly speak with them, his son has, and he was very comfortable with them. They opened the gates that were shut closed, giving Sephiroth a new world to step into—how could he deprive the boy of that?

  
Besides, it was out of the question that the two students could “corrupt” him. They were minors, they needed to be protected from those of the outside: chummy adults who basked in drink and played around with birds. If Hewley was as disciplined as Sephiroth once described him, he would make sure they would never step foot in a place like that. If Rhapsodos was as disinterested in outside matters as Sephiroth claimed, then he would not suggest such rendezvous meeting areas. It was likely they were meeting in a library or a gymnasium: both were to his friend’s tastes. 

When the warning flags came up that Rhapsodos and Hewley were sparring with Sephiroth in the gymnasium, he knew he had to take a stand once more before the Principal has Sephiroth be segregated from all peers and have private lessons—back to Square 1, if you must. Knowing that his son valued those two people for a very long time now, having spent a year with the two kids and being unable to cease thinking about them on almost every subject that was brought up, Vincent had to stand in their defense. He didn’t mind it, the two kids were not causing his offspring harm, they were indulging his need—expanding his horizon without getting rid of one of the only things Sephiroth was known to excel at.

  
Combat.

  
As Sephiroth was dangled between the two boys and trying to learn their language, they took the time to dance by his lead; to train themselves enough to point friendly blades to him and sway to the music of their swords, of the wind and the thrill of life and death’s boundaries. 

  
He couldn’t allow them to be punished for being Sephiroth’s friends, for reciprocating his interest, to invest in what he liked. Sure, Sephiroth did not enjoy killing, but a good battle had him feel alive. His eyes that were a vacant green grew brighter, sharper and much beautiful when he was ready to knock someone down in a fight. He needed an opponent that could match him in skill or strength, with dexterity and endurance to withstand the blows they were going to be bashed with. 

  
When he discussed it with Sephiroth, he was able to elicit the fact that Rhapsodos and Hewley have piqued that interest, they have the potential to be his equals in combat if they practiced a little more—he thoroughly enjoyed their competitive spirit and need to strive for better rather than throwing the blade down and giving in.

  
The satisfaction he could get by overpowering them… Vincent omitted the last thought, taking into consideration the context of it. These two boys who were now being scolded for their recklessness—were his responsibility as they took the task of helping Sephiroth. They have earnt his respect to be spared, not only for his son, but for their own use.

  
During this meeting, he met the two boys for the first time and instantly found himself drawn to them. They were exactly as Sephiroth described them to be: underdeveloped children who had good heads on their shoulders. Hewley was as calming and reasonable as he appeared to be, apologizing for going against mandate while pushing forward the unconstitutionalities of that rule. Rhapsodos was as clever and shrewd as he claimed, making the perfect weeping child’s innocence that compelled the Principal to hear their half before deciding on a punishment for them.

  
The two were still very young and yet.. they had promise. Sephiroth found these two children of Banora to be the only worthy peers of his, the only ones he wanted standing by his side or under his shadow, and Vincent was going to make sure they did. 

  
“Sephiroth’s development depends on these two, Sir. If they were to be parted, there is a chance that our Prodigy will go astray.” This was enough to firmly bark for the Principal to have his toupee flying straight up in the air, eyes wide and bulging as he ignored Hojo’s protest. 

  
_That expression of anger dressing your face, I shall savour. So very human.. for a damned monster._

  
Vincent sneered at him when those sinewy features crumpled together, brows knitting and teeth gnashing. How bloody satisfying it truly was.

  
After that, it was a breeze for he and the children. A good mission accomplished. 

  
It was rather amusing how they were showering him with praise after, words of gratitude to be the only breaths escaping their lips when he should be the one thanking them for Sephiroth. They were not instructed to be around the boy, they simply chose it—and they chose well. Sephiroth had never smiled more than he did now, his eyes had the dancing lights returning day by day, and his posture less cardboard and stiff. 

  
He even joked a couple of times!

  
And when he expressed _his_ gratitude to them, they glanced at him as if he bestowed the goddess’ blessings upon them. Maybe for their youthful minds, he did. 

  
\--

  
When the silver-haired boy found his two friends one time after class, his eyes lingered on their activities.

Perched on the hilly grass of the ShinRa dormitory courtyard was Rhapsodos, huddled to himself as he sat cross-legged, book on his lap that he read with such intent, nothing else mattered in his vicinity. Hewley was in a position similar, laying on his stomach beside him, stacking a couple of books so that he could write.  
Were they doing the thing their instructors called “homework?” 

  
As his feet met the grass, softening the loud taps of his boots when they trudged over the tiled floor, Hewley’s gaze darted to him. Rhapsodos didn’t shift, merely flipped the page within that cream-covered book he often read. 

  
“Sephiroth, come on over!” the boy’s concentrated glance bloomed into a bright smile as he lifted himself a little to gesture with his hands in invitation. His other hand remained on the piece of paper that he was writing on, protecting it from the wind that dared to blow it away. “Don’t be a stranger now..”

  
The youngest of the three gazed at him quizzically, as if questioning if he was welcomed or not. His answer was a rapid beckon of his hand: a silent confirmation that spoke louder than words. Sephiroth complied, figuring it was going to be obsolete to keep pressing on—they appear to be irritated at the fact that he does not speak unless permitted, sit alongside them unless invited. 

  
It has gone on for a year like this, and Sephiroth still found it difficult to simply slide his way around his two friends and chat as if he mattered to them. For all he knew, it was just another way to drop his guard before the Buster Sword or Rapier would make its way around his waist.

  
He didn’t want to do that. Such action was foolish and not Sephiroth like. 

  
“Are you simply going to drool over us or are you going to sit beside us?” Rhapsodos called, bright eyes narrowing on his with a little smirk, book snapped shut under his hands. Sephiroth glanced at him, unsure if he was drawn to him or hesitant to make that step forward. There was something about the boy that… didn’t rub off wrong, but it was more of a feeling that he somehow wronged him. There seemed to be something that barked at him that Rhapsodos was not going to stay with them for long. 

  
“I’ll—” the plaguing thought grew, cultivated like a healthy root when given water and enough sunlight to become a magnificent tree. There were spots in his vision, a flash of white before he was able to see his friends still seated, Hewley sitting up with eyes of concern. Were they trying to reach out to him in some way? As his mind began to swirl a bit more, he couldn’t keep his gaze level upon cerulean that now lowered, unreadable as the closed book. 

  
Closing his own eyes, he ran a hand over his temples. Good God, it was hurting. It was as if a being has encroached through the walls of his mind. Something has found its way into him, breaching the defenses that he believed Rhapsodos and Hewley had broken with their welcoming presence, with their kindness...

  
No.. they were not to blame for his birth of weakness. They were merely giving him what he sought all these years when he was holed up in that room of white and black, where he was smothered by his father and uncomfortable lab-beds. Where he was nothing but a puppet—they were not holding his strings.

  
They returned it straight up back to him, not to Hojo, to Sephiroth. 

  
There was no way he could pin it upon them that he was being compromised. He chose to let this be his life, where he wouldn’t be in the battlefields, not killing people twice his age and caliber, constantly trying to wipe the crimson off his clothes, hair and blade that never seemed to go away no matter how hard he scrubbed. 

  
He chose to let his guard down. 

  
While his mind spun round and round, it was not hard to hear three sets of voices ringing around. One being a strange, feminine one that giggled faintly, the others being his friends.

  
“Gen, what’s happening to him?!”

  
“I don’t know! I didn’t use a spell or any of that..”

  
“Well, _can you use one?_ ”

  
“I could try.. it could hurt him more.”

  
More of a woman’s giggles. 

  
“Maybe take him to the infirmary.” Hewley broke through the woman, entering Sephiroth’s line of hearing. Rhapsodos giving a helping hand.

“And send him to freaking Hojo!? _No way!”_ it was then he felt arms circle around his body, dropping on a surface rather soft. It was clear that he hadn’t fallen on the tiled ground that would bruise his skin, so rough and unpaved. Hearing three thuds meant all three of them fell.

  
He wasn’t relying on sight for the fear of only seeing what was darker than black, spotting and the disappointed faces of his friends. He couldn’t find it in him to voice his concerns to them—unsure of what was even happening to him. What was this woman to him who laughed in his pain? Who was spitting at his misery, goading it on and on?

  
All that was within his knowledge was that it had nothing to do with his two companions. They were pushing her away somehow—their arms so warm against his freezing, stiff body, the sounds of their vocals so beautiful and inviting, it was taking the shrill ones of the feminine one away. 

  
She was growling the more they tried speaking to him, murmuring encouragement to _be alright, and that everything was going to be fine, they will not leave._ When did Sephiroth ever need those words he was clinging so tightly to? Never did he have a heart for soft nothings when he was dispatched with soldiers to combat fellow human beings, not once did he think they were suffering the same as he?

  
He was eliminating the evil, after all. That was the conviction of his beautiful blade that stood by his side so tall and marvelous, brilliant and so dearly missed in this moment. 

  
When did another set of human beings become as impactful as his odachi? It was a surprise to him how he strung his arms around wherever he could, reminding himself of the familiarity of Rhapsodos’ slim waist that he held one time ago when he returned after a failed mission. That boy so warm, mixed with the cool chills of Hewley who was.. damn, he was so strong, so full, so impressive.

  
It was the opposite to Rhapsodos who could snap like a twig under his superior strength. Hewley could very much match his caliber of physicality—if Sephiroth was the kind to pump more muscle. The raven-haired friend’s embrace felt like a secure, protective one that went so well with the oldest boy’s hold that allowed the silver-haired boy to pour all of him inside. One was permitting him to lay himself bare and attain the control he so needed in his life, and the other enclosed him, reassuring him that he would not be stopped, that he would be protected even in moments where he is in authority. 

  
It was.. comforting. The boy realized another time that he truly wanted this more often. To have the control on something in his life, and the other.. to be protected. He wasn’t going to be robbed of what he wanted any more.

  
A small hand ran through his hair, roaming from the top of his head to his scalp. It wasn’t Hewley’s, for he knew this caress from the year before. That one that allowed himself to be crushed it if it meant saving grace.

  
“Open your eyes, Angel.” The boy, Rhapsodos sweetly purred, bringing that title as if he knew it crossed Sephiroth’s mind. 

  
In what felt like a friend sandwich, he really didn’t want to comply. What if he opened his eyes only to see he was imagining things? What they call “dreams”?

  
“If I open my eyes.. will it all go away?”

He was aware of the cruelty he implied with his inquiry, but he had to know it won’t. This was not a side-effect of something his father had administered into his bloodwork, he was not imagining that his two friends were at his sides, arms softly curled around him, feeling their breaths so close, Rhapsodos’ heart beat in the front and Hewley’s at the back of his head. 

  
This tranquility was too intimate, to beautiful to be a mere hallucination. He was begging for this to be real, to truly _be._

  
“What will go away, Seph?” Hewley muttered, gentle and confused. 

  
“This.” When he answered, he was bewildered by how it did not sound anything like him. The pitch, the tone, the doubt didn’t suit him. 

  
“Poor little Sephiroth.. we won’t go away unless you want us to.” How was it that Rhapsodos held all answers he wanted to hear? That boy could barely hold himself, so stringy and lithe as Sephiroth was and yet, knew when to step in and talk. He gave Sephiroth a reason to trust him—heck, Vincent trusted Rhapsodos, and that was something else. 

  
If anything, the silver-haired boy found from his current caretaker, it was that he was a huge skeptic. He had been wronged, betrayed and thrown aside. By who? The elder never seemed to share. Sephiroth couldn’t extract that information from him no matter how long he spent time with him. 

  
He believed this auburn boy could—the same way how he had gotten Sephiroth to lay his heart low.   
  
And Rhapsodos couldn’t handle that without Hewley to keep him safe as he conducted himself. Had he been alone, there was a chance he would be strapped onto a bed and have his brain pulled straight out of his head, fill it with substance and slay him. He could imagine it just now—Hojo would not keep this clever boy alive, he would’ve used him in every possible way before leaving him to die, bound and gagged in a basement with droplets of water pitter-pattering from the ceiling. 

  
Hewley was the reason why he was able to ground himself, to keep from birthing damage from his dangerous ways. That raven-haired boy was by his side at every step, and Sephiroth would be pretty foolish of an observer if he did not know that Hewley cared immensely for the boy. Rhapsodos was only calm and collected with Sephiroth for he was a learning child—a quick one. Hewley would’ve been the one to show him the ropes if he hadn’t been an interesting subject. 

  
Even now, it was the raven-haired boy who suggested the logical decision to send him to the infirmary knowing that Sephiroth’s father could take care of him. He was a doctor after all.. he had to have expertise in the field. Had this been a physical injury he suffered from, he would agree. He would not complain or gripe about going to his father if it meant getting the job done. 

  
Rhapsodos’ answer to that had come as obvious as a grey elephant in the lab—he vehemently disdained Doctor Hojo, and he was the only one who could blurt that out with confidence. If the boy was with some other student, they would’ve ratted him out, blackmail him to do their bidding as no one wanted to get on the bad side of Doctor Hojo, not even Sephiroth. Hewley was going to suffer with him if it had come to the chase. 

  
If that was not friendship, he wasn’t sure what was. 

  
Sephiroth opened his eyes with a smile, purely affectionate as he landed his gaze first on Rhapsodos who had that smile that had him sigh in appreciation, then to Hewley who smiled with nothing but amazement. Sephiroth had no idea he was able to say this, but he really, really liked his friends. They were so young, so out in the open, so unguarded and.. wholesome. That light in their eyes, the innocence in their figures, the purity that only a child could cling to before it is swiped away by bigger hands..

  
He wanted to preserve it for them. 

With the way Rhapsodos’ breath seized in his throat, and how Hewley’s smile grew, he knew he didn’t have to ask if they felt what he had. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have a great weekend.  
> The offer for a discord group is still up. Anyone interested, let me know and I'll make one~ Twitter and Tumblr are both AmareinMortis.


	11. To love or to loveless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present) Strifesodos, just Strifesodos all over this one.  
> Though, nothing super.. graphic.
> 
> A warning in this one.. could apply to Genesis. I can't figure what to be specific. Cloud fanboying could be one. Writing that was hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Wow, I feel for Genesis on this one. I tend to write him so damned gloomy; I wonder why. No, I think vulnerable is the better word for it. Also, I've realized I do have a preference for writing either Sephiroth or Angeal's point of view. I kinda avoid Gen's as it goes in a certain direction. Not sure if I like that or not.
> 
> \- Other warning, this one went over the 4-5K cap again. Zack is a great wingman. I want to write more on him, but that ball of sunshine is very difficult.
> 
> \- Anyroad, happy reading~ I should do a fic-rec soon. So many good stories out there.

\--

Riddled with nerves he was even after his call. 

  
After the older male politely accepted his invitation to the LOVELESS screenplay, Cloud couldn’t sleep throughout the night due to his mind not being able to _shut the hell up._ He kept reading his texts over and over again, having no sense of direction after his brain kept screaming, you’re going on a date with the _Genesis Rhapsodos!_

  
It was strange.. he was never this wracked with nerves, even when he had his first date with the sweetest young girl to ever exist—okay Cloud, calm down. Tifa is a good friend, that’s all the public needed to know. Tifa was his first try on love. Daughter of the Mayor of Nibelheim, Tifa was a modest young girl who befriended Cloud—probably out of pity as he didn’t get along with his peers before moving to Midgar and to this Academy, a sweet friend of his who made sure he didn’t enter scuffles.

  
Along with Cloud, Tifa was a shy little girl. The two were reluctant to enlarge their circle of friends knowing how children are—they often acted out of envy, wanting more attention than the other.. she only dated Cloud for the same reason: curiosity. They were fourteen when they went out to a park somewhere in the snowy lands to watch the first flowers of Spring grow. Over there, Cloud found that he was not very much attracted to women, just as how Tifa didn’t really have a taste in men. 

  
Cloud was considered slightly effeminate, and Tifa, with her rather tomboyish attire drew comfort in one another. They didn’t do that sort of thing anymore, preferring to hang out as friends and nothing more—she didn’t want her father to scrutinize the scrawny young boy or his mother to dote after her as she was the Mayor’s only daughter. 

  
Anyroad, that time, they tried kissing and the two only managed to trip over the couple swingset they were sitting on. They laughed for long minutes before telling one another that they should settle that with someone they love. 

  
Meek that the two were, instantly agreed.

  
Fastforward… now he has a date with a rather pretty guy. Kinda tall, slender and with a sly smile half the time with the loveliest strands of auburn hair, bow shaped lips and hooded cerulean eyes adorned the boy he was going to sit beside in the theatre in a couple of hours.

  
Yes, pretty person who happens to be the _GACKT. Holy_.

  
Golly.. Gaia did offer miracles sometimes. She did bestow her gifts as it was written in the play, they were going to watch tomorrow. If Genesis was not his gift, he wasn’t sure who would be. 

  
Glancing at the photograph he took in the studio, Cloud sighed happily. He didn’t care if he sounded like the most smitten fangirl the upperclassman had, none of them ever got the chance to take his hand and take him to the theatre to watch his favourite little epic!

  
He was definitely a lucky boy. 

  
—Wait, what was he going to tell mother dearest? That he was going on a date with a very pretty and famous singer? Goddamnit..

  
“Cloudy-sky, y’lright there?” Zack’s voice was sleep-heavy, and the blond turned his face to face the boy across the room. “You’ve been shuffling lot there.”

  
“Yeah just.. can’t sleep.” What was he going to say to his best friend? He was going on a date with their upperclassman? If he couldn’t tell his Mum or Tifa, how in the goddess’ will was he going to tell Zack?  
Guess the fact that he is a fella lad made it easier to embarrassingly blurt out. 

  
“I’mgoingonadate!” all at once, he skipped no breath to jumble. At this, Zack perked up, rising on his elbows to pay closer attention.

  
“What’d you say there?” it was adorable how he was trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes in case he needed to give Cloud a good comfort. Did his friend think he had a bad dream and couldn’t rest? Golly, was Zack so sweet.. 

  
“Zack, I…” he had to cease the stammering and scrambling. Of course, his nerves were cooking up a storm, not cooperating with him in the least. He ended up almost yelling, “I’m going on a date tomorrow night!”

  
“Whoa!” that woke up his raven-haired friend. Now he jumped off his bed to sit up closer to Cloud, sleep long forgotten. “Really? Tell me all the details of the lucky one who’s going to date the Cloudy-sky!”

  
Cloud seriously regretted his life and all the choices he had made—except the one where he got scouted to ShinRa Academy and being friends with Zack. The rest were mistakes. 

  
“Well…”

  
“Don’t let the cat catch your tongue, tell me who it is. From start to the finish!” he was beaming adorably within the night atmosphere—Cloud could’ve sworn he brought the sun into the room with how it illuminated with Zack’s smile. So adorable.. if Zack was the one he was going out with, it would’ve been the easiest little occasion.

  
Of course, he had to choose one who everyone wanted but took none to his calling. 

  
“Do you really want to know?” he could foresee his friend deflate when the truth comes out, and he didn’t want that. He wanted things to stay as simplistic and nonsensical as it was. 

  
Then again.. he was the one who got rid of the freaking concept of “normalcy”. Oxymoron or not.

  
“Yes!” he exclaimed so loud, he broke into giggles, “I’m really going to get in trouble in the morning for shouting in the middle of the night…”

1qq  
“Tell them it was a nightmare.” Cloud responded automatically, every trace of his shyness gone with a blank slate, “they can’t punish you for that.”

  
“Anyway, don’t change the subject!” this time, his shout was a whisper as he jabbed his elbow with a light punch, “who is your date?”

  
Cloud only grumbled, turning away from Zack.

  
“It’s… en.”

  
“Who! Who?” golly, he should’ve had better control of his flappable tongue, now he couldn’t escape the grave he dug for himself.

  
“I am taking my date to the Loveless screenplay, shouldn’t that explain enough..?” the blush that fled his face returned in full force, unable to meet Zack’s bright blue eyes. Of course, his response was an expected squeal—or a scream, whatever you want to call it. 

  
He swore.

  
“No way! _You’re going out with Genesis!?”_

  
Cloud hoped the silence that filled the room was a good enough answer. Zack quite practically slipped off the bed, laughing out loud. 

  
“I was wondering if it was Angeal or Sephiroth.. you picked _Genesis_ out of all of them?” 

  
At this, the blond turned, exclaiming, “don’t make him sound like a fiend!”

  
“Yeah but, consider this Cloudy—” he wiped a tear off his face, “Genesis is very, very selective!”

Yep, forget the date, just bury him. End his misery that longed for company. 

Like a flap to the next page, Zack sobered up, resorting to sitting criss-cross on the floor. “At first, I thought it was his narcissistic tendencies that he didn’t date. Then the show-biz reputation cleared that up.”

  
Cloud rose to sit up, facing his friend.

“His show-biz reputation?” he didn’t want to know what he was going to hear, well-aware that the tabloids were going to enter a frenzy when the news blares out, “ _GACKT dating a little student who resembles a Chocobo!” with the supporting line, “wasn’t that boy the one he dedicated his concert to when he was invited to the ShinRa Academy?”_

  
It was going to be a riot. 

  
“Yeah, I think Gen’s really selective because word goes very far..” meeting Cloud’s concern filled eyes, he added a reassurance, “but don’t worry Cloud. I doubt people even know Genesis is Gackt. His attire’s completely different, remember?”

  
“Oh yeah.. we didn’t even recognize him.” A little smile crept up his face as hope was finally welling up in him—thank you, Zack. “And he’s not silly enough to tell the world that he wasn’t single.”

  
“He could have a boy or girlfriend back in another apartment and we wouldn’t know.” Cloud began to deflate at Zack’s sudden apprehensiveness, “but I’m certain he doesn’t! Sephiroth and Angeal would’ve called him out on it.”

  
Then Zack amended his reasoning, “at least.. ‘Geal would. Sephiroth probably has not a clue as to what that is.”

  
Cloud gave a prayer to the goddess that Genesis was not the kind who played with people and tossed them aside when he grew bored of them. He didn’t want to be treated like trash—he was a human being who cared about him! He didn’t want to be associated with him as one of the “groupies” that a celebrity gets.

  
“You don’t think.. he’ll dump me, do you?”

  
Zack’s determined answer ran in an instant. “No way, Cloud! He knows he’d be the one at loss if he set you aside. Think about it! You’re the only one he said yes to.”

  
“The only one?” how was he so sure.. there could be dates under the rose.

  
“Because Genesis never hangs out with anyone who isn’t Sephiroth and Angeal,” he sounded a little exasperated, and Cloud wasn’t sure if it was because of his redundant sense of questioning and doubting, or.. “and if he’s not dating them.. there can’t be anyone he has.”

  
Cloud was going to be.. Genesis’ first? 

  
.

  
 **Wow**.

  
Just wow.

  
“Still.. sweet mother of Gaia! You’ve scored.” Somehow, Zack was in more shock than Cloud was, who was feeling pinches of relief coursing through him as well as the need to make the date special—it was his first! He had to make sure it was going to be a perfect one for the one who saved him so many times with whimsical prose. “Make sure he treats you well!”

  
“I’ll be sure to take care of him too.. he’s done so much for me without even knowing.” Recalling the beautiful songs he had on his music player, he added with a soft undertone. Oh gosh, he was returning to the excited little puff once again. 

  
He was.. going on a date with Genesis Rhapsodos. 

Cloud could not catch much of the sleep that provoked him all night. 

  
Thankfully, Zack did. He would’ve had to sit with shame that he deprived his friend if he caused him to lose time to rest for his silly shenanigans. It was rather hilarious that as soon as class ended, his friend had him race all the way back into their dormitory to prepare for his outing. They made sure to take the opposite turn whenever the auburn upperclassman came into sight, keeping communication off for the time period.

  
The blond missed the arch of those brows whenever his raven-haired friend pressed his hands onto his shoulder-blades and shoved him away, as if he was needed elsewhere. What he didn’t miss was how it appeared that Angeal was in on this, assisting the two underclassmen as much as he could by keeping Genesis occupied with Sephiroth, advising that he stay with the silver-haired teen as he is in need of a “gentle heart”.

  
Before Cloud was out of the scene, he got to witness Sephiroth breaking into a full laugh, tossing his head back and clutching his chest to the point it hurt. Genesis’ shocked expression over it had the boy wonder if he was shocked by the fact that Sephiroth was laughing at a joke, or that he was insulted that either Angeal was underestimating his loving nature or making him sound better than he really was.

  
Sephiroth’s laugh was one, and the latter half of the insult connected far too well. 

  
With all this going on, it was rather difficult not to think that Zack and Angeal were trying to separate them. With the way they were not allowed to even glance at one another was pouring a fissure of despair through Cloud. Genesis was going to fall for Sephiroth who was beaming at him with those eyes so green, so full of life when they were with him.

  
Cloud should’ve known this was a losing battle. 

  
There was no doubt that the silver-haired teen liked the auburn teen very much. The only possibility that the blond could win over him was the fact that he didn’t seem aware of how he could express it—there was something in the way of his smile that told the younger that he was indeed holding some sort of affection for the fiery one. 

  
Sephiroth didn’t truly smile often, something he shared with Genesis.. heck, he probably taught him how to do that since the silver teen followed his cues, his actions and demeanor. The rumours had it that Sephiroth was raised in the ShinRa Academy—from start till now and how he didn’t have the luxury of social interaction. His expressions were limited for he was still discovering himself through these years.

  
And if he knew correctly, most of his mannerisms are learnt by Genesis and Angeal. They were the only two he associated with—as far as Cloud could observe. The others were around, but none of them the way those two were.

  
He clung to them like a sanity line, the one who could keep him morale, in a stable state.

  
The adoration that he held within him was either not noticed by the two friends—particularly the auburn one, or it was deliberately ignored. While he was able to find love in those green eyes, those bright blue that glanced back.. he couldn’t read.

  
Sure, Genesis showed he was fond of the younger boy, smiling small and sweet, at times running his thin fingers through moonspun silk, keeping him away from “heathens who aren’t worth his time”—which was a harsh term he referred the Student Council to, who abhorred his presence with their Secretary. The auburn-haired teen shared food with him, although accidental as it was more like sitting around the area and then the silver-haired teen scooting closer as if he was a security blanket. 

  
Admittedly, it was very cute to see. It was also one of the factors that had Cloud find himself unworthy of his attention. Did Sephiroth murmur curses as Genesis smiled at him, treating him as an important piece of his life? He was afraid to know. 

  
Currently, he was in Angeal’s club room with Zack who served as his distraction, his buffer, his calm before the storm of heartbreak roam his bleak path. He had to be prepared for the beatdown of rejection, of how Genesis will tell him with a sweet smile that he was incredible, but not to his taste. That the blond deserved someone better, someone who was not he who can’t take care of him. All those kind words he didn’t want to hear, that tender sympathy that he closed himself to. 

  
He’d rather have Genesis spit in his face than speak those painful things. 

  
His raven friend reassured him time to time that the auburn teen will not turn him down, he will not be left on the sidewalk while the older boy trudged further and further away, he would not be meeting a heel to his face for his foolishness. Zack was right, Genesis and he did not mindlessly decide to go out—Genesis was hinting interest by dedicating songs to him when they were around, teaching him with a surprising amount of patience, giggling each time Cloud failed rather than huff and clink his boots out of sight. 

  
Cloud was the one who was taking too long, if he didn’t offer a date last night, Genesis would’ve given up on him. It was only for so long one would pin after another. Thank Gaia, Cloud had a good head on his shoulders and caught the bite before it stepped in the opposite direction of the lure. 

  
He had to make sure he would treat the teen well if he wanted this to continue.

  
“I think that’s enough practice for tonight. Excellent job, everyone!” Angeal called out gently, bowing to the members in the squad as he thrust his wooden shinai to the ground. They all returned the bow with a loud ‘thank you!’ before taking their protective gear off.

  
“You ready, Cloudy sky?” Zack giggled as he removed his helmet that somehow held both their spiked hair together without flying high into the sky and breaking a window. Cloud gave him a small smile, contemplating his answer.

  
“As can be. A shower and I’ll be off.”

  
“Don’t forget to wear lots of perfume and bring Genesis some flowers!” the boy elbowed his arm lightly, goading a laugh from the blond. 

  
“You make it sound like Genesis is a woman..” to his mutter, Zack bellowed a guffaw.

  
“You mean he’s not?”

  
“You be careful with the outbursts, Zack. If Genesis hears you say that to him..” Angeal stepped in with a wide smile that spoke of the dangers of Zack’s free spirit. Cloud smiled at him.

“Angeal, any advice you could give me when it comes to Genesis?”

  
Turning his attention to the blond, Angeal’s smile dipped with care like a father to a son. Perhaps, it was that kind of feeling as Genesis was their friend that was being given to an underclassman. It was possible that after this date, the two would be intimate together—they were offering their hearts to one another with this fateful night, and if Cloud messes up, he’d lose his upperclassman. 

  
If Genesis returns with a heart full of pain, Sephiroth would have their heads. All of theirs for making his friend go with these small friends and snap his love in half. 

  
“I am going to tell you as honest as I can be that you should stay as candour with him as you naturally are. Don’t try flashy moves to impress him.” 

  
It was as straight-forward as Cloud hoped Angeal could be. It was easier to open his mind to their Captain as he weighed the odds with uttermost patience and care. He couldn’t imagine asking Sephiroth the same and getting a response as clear as Angeal’s. Genesis and Zack would probably open up a magazine and giggle around, pulling the questionnaires and embarrass him. 

  
Besides, his date was Genesis, he couldn’t possibly address something like that to him. 

  
“Wouldn’t Genesis appreciate a little ‘finesse?’” Zack jumped in, eyes wide and eager like a child to whom Angeal petted. 

  
“Manners are important everywhere, pup,” ruffling raven spikes, he returned his focus to the blond, “if you are interested in what he stands for, it shouldn’t be hard for him to reciprocate it. While playful, he is an honourable man.” 

  
That was true. While particular, he was very passionate in methods Cloud had never seen. One of that was shown with the way he takes the time to get to know the people who pique his interest. Genesis sets aside any personal opinion on them to hear them out then judges according to that. 

  
Not that dealing with Sephiroth was something of a nightmare, just.. different. It was the same as parenting a child, and Genesis surprisingly did well—of course, with Angeal’s help. 

  
“Should I be concerned about Sephiroth’s.. viewpoint?” how was he to ask about how the silver-haired teen felt. All he was worried about was a gut feeling that he drew conclusions from. There was no proof that the silver-haired teen was possessive, pining after the auburn teen. The boy would’ve had it mentioned—make a haughty statement about how he had gotten the star pupil of ShinRa Academy fall for him, just some boy from Banora who happened to be very pretty. 

  
And Cloud would not deny the pretty part. He had his fair-share of pretty, but Genesis was on a different level altogether. 

  
“Seph? Did he give you a warning or something?” As he expected, Angeal answered with a query, brows raised up and incredulous. Perhaps, Cloud’s guts were a little too high-strung. He must’ve been imagining the fact that Sephiroth seemed a little close to Genesis that exceeded a natural friendship. Taking a glance at Zack was no different of a response as Angeal, only gaping more than the older friend. 

  
Cloud shook his head in response.

  
“C’mon, Cloud. Let’s get you ready for your date!” Zack slung an arm around his shoulders, breaking into a bright smile where once again, Cloud wished for some sunglasses for. He was so radiant, so bright and free like the sun.. like fair weather. Why couldn’t he simply fall in love with him and get through the knots of difficulty right there? Life just had to be a bastard and have him love someone who was impossible to. 

  
Not that Genesis was unlovable—not that he was.. loveless, it was just that he chose none to be his life’s companion beyond friendship or comradery. It was intimidating, to say the least. 

  
Finding nerves spike up the same way as his hair, he allowed himself to be led away by Zack, excusing himself from the club room. 

\--

Now if he thought Genesis was pretty in his prim school uniform, he had another truth coming. 

  
He glanced at the teen who was dressed in a maroon turtleneck that was a size slightly larger than usual, with a twin chain of bright beads grooving down his neck and reaching his chest. Black jeans and a black long vest that resembled a sleeveless coat and a set of ankle length brown boots, Cloud found that he was drop-dead gorgeous. His auburn hair was swept a little neater than the usual, showing a bit of his right eye that was often obscured in it, silver dangling earring more in emphasis than anything else. 

  
It was as if he didn’t need to put effort into appearing like a model off a magazine—Cloud was at a loss, finding his black leathers over his baby blue V-neck shirt was now lacking. His friend insisted on keeping it informal with a tinge of style within the limited wardrobe of his, and so Cloud did just that. It was either this or his uniform. 

  
Thank Gaia once again that Genesis did not go full on Gackt mode, he would’ve been a puddle of rain.   
He was met with a smile of cerise lips. 

  
“You look cute, Cloud.”

  
And wow, how did Cloud not reply with, ‘ _you too’_ was beyond him. It was on the tip of his tongue.   
Of course, he gave a worse response. He gave him a big, goofy grin. 

  
“I ask you again _: like what you see?”_ he gestured to his attire with a suggestive wave of his hand. On his middle finger, the blond found a set of silver rings on his middle finger, one arching down softly, embellished with tiny pink stones, the second ring dressed by two swans holding a little heart of the same ruby-like stone. 

  
He really was one for fashion.

  
“You look gorgeous.” He beamed, unaware if he sounded the same as usual or sadly desperate. The giggle he received in return was worth the goof-up. 

  
“I may know that, but hearing it from you.. I am glad. Thank you, sweetheart.” Gosh, he really was caught under a spell. The upperclassmen’s smile had him wishing he could always appear this way, all bashful and giggling. That demure nature that appeared only to special people in his life filled Cloud’s heart with too much love. 

  
It was overwhelming him. 

  
The teen extended his hand to him, “are you ready to go?”

  
“Are we going by transit?” it may have been a silly question, but he wasn’t sure if Genesis drove or not. He certainly did not at the moment, all the while having his eyes locked on a beautiful motorbike waiting for him. Even though he doesn’t own it, he named it Fenrir. 

  
“I did hail a cab..” 

  
Taking a peek at the clock had him perk up. They were right on time—despite Cloud’s fear of being a good 15 minutes late. Taking the teen’s hand, he allowed himself to be led out of the lobby of the dormitory and to the cab that awaited them. 

As they made it to the lovely theatre, the blond sat to the left of the auburn teen, observing him rather than the actors who were currently preparing the stage. They were a little early it seemed, Genesis insisted it was better that way as they could finally spend some “quality time” without all the hubbub of their friends who were keeping them apart.

  
“And why, pray tell, were they trying to hide you, dear?” the older teen crooned, smile long, sweet and full of a tease. Cloud really wasn’t sure why they were doing so. He didn’t ask them to, they were not preparing him for a wedding—that was where the bride and groom did not meet until the time came. It seemed that even Angeal was in on this, keeping Genesis as far off from Cloud as possible, keeping him in Sephiroth’s arms that.. golly, almost broke Cloud’s heart.

  
What if he settled there that he wanted Sephiroth instead?

  
“I have to ask you the same: Why was Angeal hiding you?”

  
“He..” the boy glanced away from him and the blond caught those cheeks beginning to flush. He did have a natural rosy tint to his face, but that was the freckles that he stood out when his hair shifted from his face, this was definitely a blush from embarrassment. “He wanted me to tell Sephiroth I was going out with someone. Explain what happens in it.”

  
The younger boy’s eyes widened, “and what is supposed to happen, Genesis?”

  
While curious, he just wanted to see the boy flush more, scream things in his humorously dramatic fashion and shake up his hold in their situation overall. Cloud didn’t want to be the only one flustered about dating Genesis Rhapsodos. 

  
“Typically..” the boy’s fingers raised to his lips as he gnawed upon it, “typically, a date is a hangout that helps us decide whether we want to stay as friends, or as..”

  
 _Lovers_.

  
“As what?” was he afraid of loving the young blond? He needed to know. This was as important to the boy as it was to Cloud who wanted this to be the point where he sees whether he wanted them as a relationship or just a fan-idol friendship. For as Cloud went, he wished to say he was alright with either choice Genesis made, but the nagging thought of someone else’s lips upon his, someone else holding him in their arms, running their hands through his auburn hair and speak those words of their heart…

  
He was not alright with being the one who watched that pass him by.

  
“When it doesn’t work out, there’s a chance one becomes friends with benefits or just friends..” he wasn’t sure if he was relieved that Genesis didn’t meet his gaze or not, “and if it works out, the two can date some more, or become intimate.”

  
As the older male offered his two cents, it gave him an idea of what he could reasonably expect. Genesis might be afraid to initiate intimate happenings; they were too personal for his liking. He was not interested in the date more than a mere outing with a friend. 

  
“What are you alright with?”

  
Cloud no longer cared if he was prying a little too much into the shy, older male. There was no other time he wanted to try this, he couldn’t take the heartbreak once.

  
Cerulean met sapphire with nothing but hesitation down his brow, and the younger watched as rosy lips parted, taking in a small breath before attempting to answer. Problem was.. Cloud was not going to hear his response as the ones on stage took over, greeting them this evening—separating the two from the topic that begged for clarity.

  
They were here for the LOVELESS stage play, not to discuss emotional matters. 

  
At that moment, he knew it would be rude to interrupt Genesis when it was a story so precious to him being read out and adapted right in front of them. They were close to the front rows, any word spoken will be noted by the crew. 

  
He couldn’t do that to Genesis..

  
Heaving a sigh, he backed all thoughts to the side in favour of watching what they came for. What Genesis was here for.

  
As the play ended, the actors on the stage were taking in questions and comments, opening the panel to discuss LOVELESS with the audience. The blond found his voice caught in his throat, so clogged and stubbornly stuck, he offered not a word. Smiling to the hardworking actors was all he could give. 

  
He severely wished for Genesis to talk on their behalf, make them feel appreciated that one of his nature had been the witness to a great screenplay, offer praise that they deserved, expand on topics they were eager to discuss. He hoped that the auburn male could do all that he couldn’t in his moment. 

  
And wordlessly, he complied with a rather long smile. What caught Cloud’s attention and had his heart jump was how tightly Genesis was holding his hand as he spoke to the beautiful actors and actresses, showering them with loving words and intrigue in his laced words and gleaming bright blue eyes. Sure, he could expect a little brush of those long fingers, but a full-on hold? A possessively tight hold? 

  
Cloud was up in the sky—probably the only one that was not raining. He soared so damned high; his emotions were in a heat rush like a clearing of a traffic jam. Genesis was holding his hand, his hand with such love as if he couldn’t contain his own exhilaration. 

  
Sure, it was excitement over the film, but to think of choosing Cloud’s hand to hold.. meant Cloud was not just backdrop to him. It didn’t help that he snuck glances at him, each time with a smile so radiant, it rivalled Zack’s. Genesis was really happy to be here, elated to talk about LOVELESS and.. and be with a friend who had a partial understanding to it. 

  
Boy, did Cloud feel so important in that moment. 

  
“There is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess.” 

  
Cloud must've been going insane, thinking he heard Genesis quote that to him.

  
“Your boyfriend must have something to say about it too!” the lead actress exclaimed with a sweet smile, locking her gaze at Cloud, “I saw him clutching his heart at some moments.”

  
Genesis offered him a smile once more before glancing at her, “he really is so shaken up by it.”

  
Did he not hear her call him his boyfriend? For sure, Cloud himself heard it and he was pressing his embarrassment far back to avoid showing them his tomato redness.

  
“Strong and silent, he is?” the woman glanced at him as a proud mother would, as if she too, was a friend of Genesis’, that she might be. 

  
“So sweet and cute too.” Genesis answered back and Cloud almost combusted, “he brought me here, this kind Chocobo of mine.”

  
“That really is so sweet of him… if he knows how important this beautiful work is to you, he’s a keeper!”

  
At that, Cloud’s eyes widened at Genesis who blinked as if he received an epiphany of sorts. She had a point that was sticking out like an elephant in the room. The hand holding must’ve been something he did unconsciously, and how lovingly he did.. the blond didn’t want his hand to part, offering a reassuring squeeze in hopes that would assist him in some way.

  
For someone whose emotions were expressed in whimsical rhapsodies, Genesis really was too unreadable. Erratic, perhaps. There was no telling what he truly felt, all the while spurting words of truth. In fact, Cloud could go on a limb and compare his ineptitude with understanding his passionate emotions to Sephiroth’s silent ones. 

  
While Sephiroth didn’t use words as eloquently as Genesis naturally did, his actions were what spoke out—something that Genesis had trouble in doing, so used to waving his arms in the air carelessly. He seemed to be the one who struggled the most with the innermost feelings, even more than Sephiroth who merely had no knowledge of the existence. 

  
“He really is.” Nothing appeared and sounded more foreign than that. Genesis let out a breath before letting his eyes meet Cloud’s another time, smile so small. It was that smile that held the most truth, the one that held his heart and ripped it out of the protective ribcage. “I should repay him, somehow.”

  
Mentally shaking his head, he answered, “there’s no need for that!”

  
“If he says that _, you really have to,_ Gen.” The lead actress blew out a giggle. “Why not take him for dinner? It is that time already..”

  
Giving her a nod, he snickered, “dinner in my dorm, dear?”

  
And Cloud could only blink owlishly. _Holy Gaia, could this day get better or worse?_

  
There was only one way to find out.

  
“If you don’t mind…” 

  
Genesis tsk’ed. “Yes or no, Cloud.”

  
Swallowing a lump in his throat, he replied, “yes, please.”

  
\--

When the little blond took his call at the evening, he didn’t expect to be invited to a LOVELESS screenplay.   
When he returned home to his dormitory room, he quite literally fell onto his bed in a boneless heap, leaving dinner away from his schedule. It was half past twenty-two hours, and he did not eat when that hour struck. He couldn’t stomach anything other than water or tea at that time. 

  
He was deeply and thoroughly spent after a day of class, some after class hangout with his two friends and then work. He loved work to death, he adored every friend he had, but he couldn’t deny that it was so exhausting. Socializing was never his strongest suit, and mingling was a nightmare. 

  
When working with people, he had to remind himself that these people are not standing by him to bother him—they share the same ambition as he, they respect him just as much as he respects them, they wanted his dream come alive as he wanted theirs. They all worked hard together, all rose and fell together.

  
It was amazing.

  
He was just about ready to flop into the world of slumber and dreams when he thought of giving the younger boy a call. He put the effort earlier the day, he should try and return it. Besides, that dream was not something he wanted to be a witness of if it was going to be reoccurring. 

  
His intention was playful with Cloud, just call him, tease him for being so easily flustered, and then turn in for the night. The fella had guts for calling him in the middle of work where he would rather chuck that PHS through the wall and watch it smash into smithereens. 

  
He did not expect the boy to have the guts to ask him out. No one has ever dared to take him on a date—he never was one to request one, so no one returned it. He never even dated Sephiroth nor Angeal—those two he wouldn’t have refused if they ever wanted to take him out. 

  
So, when Cloud did, he had to lift his tired head off the pillow and think. 

  
Cloud was.. interested in him? It was probably that interest in Gackt that he wanted to spend more quality time with Genesis, but that cynical thought was quickly removed with the remembrance that.. before he even knew he was that singer, Cloud held an interest in him, seeking him out by practicing materia, or agreeing to mingle with Angeal and Sephiroth when he and Zack were not accustomed to going as a squad.

  
And the fact that Cloud adored his bestest friends in the Planet had his heart swell. The boy was so sweet, so caring, so adorable.. and his heart was in a good place. Genesis adored the boy, he was very glad that Angeal and Sephiroth found the same. They didn’t leave him nor Zack the puppy out of their clique, in fact, the two readily accepted them with open arms and open eyes. It was such a lovely sight.. and Genesis was overjoyed that he didn’t have to fight for it. 

  
Cloud was someone he didn’t want to lose so quickly. 

  
And thus, he agreed with shivers unrelenting. Why was he so afraid? If he knew the answer, he wouldn’t be in this predicament. There was something deep inside of him that screamed that this was a terrible idea, that he was setting himself up for harm—that he is betraying someone in some way. 

  
Even when he isn’t, and perhaps wouldn’t. If Cloud wanted to be tied to him, it didn’t sound like a bad idea—in fact, he would readily give him what he wants.

  
_Just as long as he stays._

  
Golly, why was infidelity so strongly engraved in him? Was it because…?

_‘I am not of theirs..’_

  
_‘I am.. a nobody, a freak!’_

Curling to himself, he ended the call before slapping his PHS onto the night-table, hoping it would break, or at least crack a little. At the same time, he hoped it didn’t incur any damage—it was his gateway for too much business.

  
Goddess.. now he wished Angeal and he were never moved from their old dormitory. While they were still next to each other, their larger dormitories left voids where it used to be filled. Tonight was those nights where he would even excuse the goddamned bugs that invaded Angeal’s plants. 

  
That much.. he needed Angeal in this current moment, but he knew he couldn’t disturb him. The lad was asleep since 21:00 hours. Sephiroth.. Sephiroth disdained the night so he didn’t bother with sleeping, but Genesis would not want to enter his dormitory at this hour unless he wanted to be in Masamune’s reach. He had too much griping memories that haunted him, he could barely tell a difference between a student or a soldier in battle. 

  
Genesis knew.. he couldn’t be selfish. He had to be alone, no matter how much he disdained it so. 

  
This was his only way to prepare for the worst. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, hope you have a lovely weekend.


	12. Libation for failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present) Starts with more AGS  
> Strifesodos only in mentions, with Seph asking all the right questions.
> 
> Warnings go for Genesis again as it started to go into body dysmorphia and it's a little depressing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I decided to post a double today since I'm ahead of schedule. (I'm at 20 chapters, so that’s good.)
> 
> \- Damn, I think I’m giving Genesis a hard time now. I am laughing a bit at this segment though. You can clearly see, I’m not really sure how to define romance. Hopefully it’s not too inaccurate.  
> Also, I should apologize, as it went on, I went a little overboard.
> 
> This one's for you Amyma. You encourage me to write more AGS that I can't seem to stop writing. 
> 
> All being said, I hope you enjoy this segment.

\--

It was their day off the next day, and that meant after braving through a nasty night of practically crying himself to sleep that Genesis sat by Sephiroth and Angeal in the cafetorium. Instead of ordering what he called meager food that the lunch ladies and gentlemen created, he had a Banora White in his hand, eating silently as Angeal and Sephiroth pointed at their schoolbooks with pens. 

  
Their lunch trays to the side with a standard set of ShinRa rations which was eggs, sausage and toast in the morning, then mashed potatoes, gravy and garlic bread for lunch. Currently it was the latter—well, partial as he could only find most contents in Sephiroth’s tray.

  
Angeal gratefully ate each meal that was given his way, earning a roll of Genesis’ eyes every time he mentioned his frugality. It was alright to be grateful, Genesis too, was thankful for every morsel he has and gets, but not when it was practically torture for the stomach, something that should never be consumed for the love of eternity. 

  
The goddess herself would spit upon this trash. 

  
“And if we apply this formula here, it could solve the problem.” Angeal instructed as Sephiroth made a circle on the paper.

  
“But it would work better if we shifted this to the left. This matter presses harder and requires to be looked into.” Sephiroth pointed out, glancing at the raven-haired boy with a raised silver brow. Genesis glanced at their books as he took another bite of the purplish fruit. 

  
He offered the two the same fruit—and that happened to be the only things they ate. Apparently, they had no time for breakfast beforehand. It wrought shame down the auburn boy. They were this busy trying to finish their classwork before they lost more hours to lectures that could bore them to death? 

  
Genesis surprisingly had his done while he was working. That was probably why he fell asleep in the studio. It was a little too simple for his liking, too easy to flick formulas and methods to complete simple problems—Sephiroth and Angeal however, kept it interesting by flanking newer ways to solve it. They applied many battle tactics to things such as mathematics, or even mathematics into their strategy classes, and each time, he was caught amazed by how many ways they found. 

  
And the boy didn’t hate math, he hated simple problems. 

  
How his heart was at such peace just gazing at the two as they communicated to one another. There was _nothing_ _in the world_ —the **entire Planet** that was better than watching two friends get along so well. It was an effort to have Angeal comfortable with him—the rich boy of Banora, the one who people kept a safe distance from. It was even more of work to invite Sephiroth into their little twin root. The two were almost tied to the hip close, no one could weave their way into their friendship as they allowed Sephiroth. 

  
He had absolutely no regrets in having the silver teen be a part of their lives. He was by no means a burden or a prized possession that was handed to them with an iron fist, he was another child just as they were and now, he was an adult, ready to face the world in his intrinsic manner. Not by the words of ShinRa, but his own. 

  
And if Sephiroth did not want to enlist, Genesis and Angeal were sure to follow him. Despite telling Cloud that they were prepared to be heroes, he gave those little words some thought. Outside this hellish training and building character, Genesis already had a career in place. It’ll take Angeal and Sephiroth a little while before they catch up, with the raven boy probably opening a family garden shop, and Sephiroth in a library or a gymnasium. 

  
He bellowed a sigh, just so content to watch them pick at their work, veiling their inability to commence small talk with stimulating their minds. 

  
These two are going to keep going at it, aren’t they?

  
They must’ve mistaken his sigh of appreciation as a bored breath that waited to be included in their boring work, judging by the way Angeal and Sephiroth’s eyes landed on him, so concentrated with guilt and concern. 

  
“Genesis.” He jumped in his seat when the two of them called him, both having a strong, authoritative tone as if they caught him dazed, “wouldn’t you find this method better?”

  
And truly, he wasn’t on their wavelength at this moment, finding his eyes constantly shifting somewhere else. It was as if he was transported from one world to another, another reality as if he was daydreaming of how they were at peace, at harmony with one another. Perhaps it was their tone he disdained in this moment where it should’ve been a dual projection of simplicity, of a small calm, soft and supple like his apple. With the way they addressed him, it was all of a sudden the same as a superior General calling out on a poorly performing cadet. 

  
Those kind eyes were not as tender and caring anymore. Angeal’s deep blues were studying him, scrutinizing him as if he was a clone or something, and Sephiroth… Why was it here that he imagined Sephiroth glaring at him as if he was something worth rotting—or watching as Angeal pointed the Buster Sword at him, and himself smirking like a naughty cat at empty threats?

  
Their gazes were tearing him apart, penetrating his inner, self-depreciative soul.

  
He hid the fear that was gnawing in his guts, opting for an answer that he hoped would connect, at the very least. 

  
“Why not move X to the right? It’s that ‘suppose Y is = 0’ algebra thing, no?”

  
Angeal gave him a smile and it was not one of happiness. Sephiroth’s slit green eyes darted to him, that bright swirl of aquamarine and silver so full contrasted greatly with the dim, hollow green his dream showed.

_‘You will rot.’_

As if punched in the gut,, nausea began building up inside of him, ordering him to spill all he had consumed despite the deliciousness of his apple. He had to bite it down with a large breath to keep himself from doing so. Now was not the time to be zoning out. 

  
“Well Gen.. this isn’t algebra. This is us playing around _The Art of War’s_ workbook.” Angeal elaborated with that pitied smile, so wry to the point that Genesis could feel that the younger boy regretted involving him. When did they switch topics? He could've sworn they were doing mathematics a moment ago.

  
“Did you attain enough sleep, Genesis? Your reaction time has halved, not to mention.. you’re radiating a nervous energy.” Sephiroth surveyed, eyes screaming levels of concern for him as his voice lowered. Unneeded worry.

  
“Yeah,” oh Goddess, do not retch in front of them. “Just got a.. a..”

  
“What is it? A stomach-ache? A fever? Tell us.” Angeal shifted a little closer, running a warm hand along his forehead, “tell us so we could help.”

  
Him stuttering was enough embarrassment he earnt this day. He had to cover up those nightmarish sights plaguing him currently.

  
“I’ve been asked to go on a date.” He blurted out just like that. And boy, how Angeal’s eyes widened like saucer plates, and Sephiroth.. Sephiroth was hilarious—he was trying to piece together something completely different. He seemed to so lost, it threw Genesis’ nerves away in the need to laugh _loudly_.

  
“How could someone ask you to either sit or stand on a fruit so small..?” That question had the two bursting out into laughs, and Sephiroth frowned. 

  
“Gen, you’re _this_ shaken up because you’re going out with Cloud?” Angeal asked in between laughs, and Genesis had Sephiroth’s query on a non-stop replay, trying his best to imagine what gears were running through that strange mind of his to come up with something as peculiar as that. “I thought you saw Sephiroth murder you or something!”

  
Oh, how his honourable raven-haired friend had no idea…

  
“Angeal, there’s a potential that Cloud and I would…” he shook off the laughs in favour of answering with as much newborn fear that crept up his slender body, “would…”

“Why would Strife—”

  
 _“A date is a romantic outing, Seph!”_ he couldn’t break into more chuckles at the adorable assumption of his friend who had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. 

  
“A romantic outing…” Sephiroth furrowed his brows again, glaring straight at him. That stare had Genesis want to shrink and hide on Angeal’s shoulder. “Genesis, Strife is your—our friend, we are with him almost every day.. why is this different?”

  
He lifted a hand to his face, “I.. it is intimate.”

  
Angeal spoke up for him, “you see Seph, when it is a group hangout, you are not thinking of spending eternity with them. It’s more of a time you cherish spent but will be alright when they find their soulmate and move on.” 

  
“But I want to spend eternity with…” Sephiroth trailed on, frown deepening as if he thought they will stop being friends. 

  
“You don’t want to kiss me, though.” The raven friend corrected, bringing up a finger, and Genesis wished he was assuming when he caught something very odd in those glimmering eyes. “Our eternity is like.. doing these activities, playing games, uhh.. occasional hugs when a friend needs it, not _sleeping on the same bed.. without clothes.”_

  
The silver haired male merely blinked, before turning to a grimace at the bit that had the slightly older boy's cheeks flush. 

  
“Gen, Cloud and Zack are coming, I think you should explain the rest to Sephiroth while I keep them away.” The boy stood up before Genesis could properly ask, “wait, why?”

  
“I think you’ll combust if you and Cloud discuss this further.”

  
With that, he left him with a confused Sephiroth.

  
 _Damned traitor_.

  
Sephiroth’s eyes blinked in curiosity and Genesis heaved a deep sigh. This boy was the last person he wanted to explain this to. 

  
“Genesis..”

  
“Don’t ask.” He rubbed his temples, wondering why the Goddess condemned him so. What did he do in his past—

  
Better yet.. why did life hate him so? First, the stupid magic growth, then the ShinRa’s tiresome Academy ways, now the nightmares that ate at him. 

  
Green eyes glaring at him so intensely and so heartlessly—the eyes of a madman.

  
“If I could understand why, I would cease.” Was that a plead? Genesis smacked himself for rendering Sephiroth into this. “I want to know what this is, and what effect it would have upon us.”

  
Bright cerulean widened as it met emerald eyes. Did he fear the end of their friendship because he was going out with Cloud?

  
“Oh Seph..” he ran a hand around that sharp face, so smooth and soft yet strong. “It won’t affect _us_ in the way you think.”

  
“What do you mean?” how little he truly sounded, so distant, so small as if he was so close to breaking.

  
“We will still be friends.. you, Angeal, me, the puppy.. Cloud.” If he wasn’t so particular on intimacy, he could’ve given those cheeks of his silver friend a caress with his lips. “I love you too much to leave.”

  
“Love..?” Genesis missed the way Sephiroth quite so leaned to his touch, melting into it. “How different is it? Your love to us, and this romantic outing with Strife..?”

  
“Like ‘Geal put it, if Cloud and I become a thing, we’d be kissing each other, bound to each other, sleeping in the same bed, doing...” _giving themselves to each other_. Genesis never imagined he would ever, it was too much to mull over. At the same time, if Cloud wanted it.. he didn’t mind. The boy was one of the reasons he felt so giddy these days, so.. strangely virginal. 

  
It did make sense as he was still…

  
“But Gen.. Strife quite so lives with Fair. How do we know.. they’re not sleeping in the same bed the way Angeal put it?”

  
Genesis’ eyes widened. Did Sephiroth know he had a very compelling point? Something Genesis did not consider at all? Was he just a trial for Cloud? Something he wanted to test the waters with so that he could do the same or better for Zack?

  
Cloud was.. using him?

  
“I’ll see.. today, if that is the case.” His heart was sinking deep, so fast like a freight train. Did Sephiroth know that? Could he ever understand the pain he was falling into?

  
“What would you do? Would you still be his friend?”

  
“I.. don’t know.” He trembled. Truly, now he did have no answer for the silver friend. “ _But as happiness grows, so does guilt. Of not fulfilling the oath to his friends_.”

  
He earned a furrow of his brows, not out of anger, just distant. 

  
“If you won’t be his friend.. should we follow?” and Genesis had to resist a little coo. That was so cute of Sephiroth to think he had to break the friendship he forged with Cloud just because Genesis couldn’t share it after their date. Did he not care for what he felt?

  
He shook his head.

  
“I won’t ask you to.”

  
And he met jade of understanding. He supposed Sephiroth would only cherish those who spent more than a year with him as he and Angeal had— Cloud and Zack were as good as passerby if they hurt his friends. Genesis disdained his surprise at the unspoken sentiment. Of course, Sephiroth would protect who he cared for. That was what he and Angeal taught him over the course of his Academy years. 

  
For him to take it to his heart and secure it like a child holding their favourite toy had Genesis biting his lip, regretting his reckless choice of changing his potential friendship with the cute Cloud. 

  
He was going to lose him tonight. 

  
“I would want to follow your choice, Gen. I do not want to be friends with someone who is not your friend.” By the goddess, Sephiroth was so cute..

  
 _“For the price of my pride.. flight is no more for my wing has shattered.”_ He meant well, he meant the best for him. It didn’t simmer the guilt welled so persistent in Genesis’ gut. The auburn boy gave him a tight smile. “Thank you, Seph, and I’m sorry.”

  
He should’ve said no. No… he should never have insinuated that he was open for a romantic relationship, oh poor Cloud. Another fool to his allure. 

  
“Genesis..” Sephiroth ended as soon as he began, lips parting before pressing together in an uncertain frown. Genesis raised his head with a small nod to have him continue, but whatever the boy wanted to say went unspoken with a shake of his head, silver hair swishing slow by the action. 

  
Sometimes, Genesis wondered if he was in love with two of his best friends. How easy it would’ve been.. just telling these two people who meant his world that he adored them, that they were his as he was theirs. He was wishful thinking. Of course, Sephiroth and Angeal only gazed upon him as a friend, as someone to cherish. They would never be close to having their lips upon him, whisper sweet nothings to him and remind him how necessary he was to them. 

_I loathe who I have become._

What had happened.. just a moment ago, they were laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. Now… it just felt as though Genesis has broken a chasm between his four friends with his foolishness. The fissure was growing too deep under his feet, clawing at him, attempting to rip into his flesh and drag him down—to reap what he had sewn.

  
“I should get ready soon..” he mumbled to himself, finding those bright green still bearing into his wordlessly. 

  
“Would you like me to give you some alone time?”

  
He couldn’t smile and shake his head in this current moment like he should’ve. To lie now was to wish for Masamune to cut into his neck and have him bleed drop by drop in the slowest pace possible. That, he didn’t want. Genesis may have had death on the back of his mind almost every minute of the day, but he did not want to die pointlessly. 

  
Or early, in that manner. 

  
“No.. could you stay with me?”

  
That little smile that followed the slight nod shed some light upon him. At least, if he had to face the end, it would be with a smile.

\--

Perhaps, he was a little too much of a cryptic person. Or he was just stupid.

  
Within the stress that was piling inside of Genesis these weeks of scheduling and scheduling appointments, he had forgotten that simply laying in a bathtub with running warm water and deep bubbles could be so… cathartic. To his bewilderment, it was Sephiroth’s suggestion to add the bubble formula within the bath, claiming that Genesis once told him that it was fun to play with.

  
Being Head of the Drama Club, unofficial speaker for their group of five, Leader of a rather successful band, attending class and training for the enlistment… he has severely overestimated his capabilities. It was a lot of work to squish into a month’s time—knowing it wasn’t him alone but managing more than 20 people. His group were five, his band were more than 10 if including the sound crew, the choreographers, the directors, producers, etctctc, the club of his consisting of about 14 members (and were still recruiting at that!).  
In short, that’s a lot of people to work around!

  
Too many people. While Genesis had the presence of a peacock: beautiful, alluring and most certainly attractive, he hated the fact that he had to interact with others. Having them under his wing was one thing, it wasn’t too difficult to make a good speech, say it once with a good pitch and watch as the members all scream in agreement, cry tears of joy or raise their hands in the air. Actually, having to be the sitting with them and commencing small talk was a nightmare for him. 

  
He didn’t care what they did in their daily lives. He had not a damn in his soul to know what their lovers did or what they ate in the morning just as long as they were willing to do their part. For them to do their job is all he asked of them. It was supposed to be a mutual agreement that he shares no information about him as they won’t to him. 

  
Of course… it is easier said than done. He still had many who had their ShinRa worthy sob-story that he had to listen to and pass a sympathy tissue to. A couple of them were worth the listening though, he had to nod in reluctance. One of his clubmates had troubles with her lover—warranting a punch to the face by Genesis as the poor girl pleaded for some way to avoid harm.

  
Yes, he was a silly willy who tried protecting each member. When they were in a pinch, he offered to assist them any which way possible, they just needed to page him. A something he learnt from Angeal. 

  
Anyroad, Genesis let himself have the moment to just bask in the warmth of the bubble bath. He earnt himself the right to rest for the last time in his life, he might as well take it before it flies off. He ushered Sephiroth to stay with Angeal and Zack while he and Cloud went out—the reason why the silver teen wasn’t around. 

  
He had enough time to arrange a cab for he and the blond. He didn’t think of giving the boy a gift, not really knowing what he would like or if it would be awkward since it was their first “date”, as he labelled it. The play was within a couple of hours, giving him enough time to shoot messages to his clubmates and bandmates on his work-phone, that he planned to do after getting his wrinkled self out of the bath.

  
Whoops, he stayed in there for too long, it seemed.

  
Genesis didn’t bother with blow-drying his hair, letting his towel do most the work before shifting it to the side and away from his eye it veiled. He figured everyone thinks of him as a fashionable one, he might as well dress a little like one who knew their beauty—no matter how much he disagreed with it. 

  
It was obvious that there were prettier people than he, ones with better figures, with cuter smiles, eyes that were not so damn light and almost invisible, skin not so pasty as his, someone who did not have bursts of fire or other magic emitting from his body like it’s a second nature. Sure, he was not bad looking, just not the best there was.

  
It was easy to put on a mask and act like he was, though. 

  
All he needed to do was put on a layer or two and boom, he was presentable. Donning black jeans, he had a long-sleeved grey netted shirt under his maroon turtleneck, finding himself too used to wearing layers underneath his outerwear for years and years, it was returning to him in a full swing. Heck, under his jeans were the long socks he used to have a habit of wearing before he became fifteen.

  
When the bruising on his skin had ceased for good. 

  
Sure, training and workouts did cause wear and tear, cuts and scratches, bruises and dents upon his currently unblemished skin, this time were by accident and not by a harsh hand or a stick. It wasn’t punishment as it was when he covered them up. 

  
Tonight, those scars that he thought were fresh off his body littered him once again. He couldn’t think of revealing a part of his body without the shame of something ugly to pick on, a scab to nip at, something Cloud could scoff or grimace at. He didn’t want to disappoint him. 

  
The sleeves of the maroon turtleneck were long and wide, prone to slipping and Genesis was so ready to run Rapier through the mirror he was gazing at with hollow cerulean eyes and smash it to pieces. He opted not to, realizing that the shards would laugh at him, still staring with its cruel reflective glass and displaying to him how pathetic he truly was. 

_Genesis Rhapsodos was a f—king joke._

He wasn’t even a Rhapsodos, to add salt to that wound! He was a freaking nobody within this world full.. somebodies. Cloud was a Strife, but even so, that was someone important. More than someone who had no name to his calling—just some thing that was supposedly labelled “G”. 

  
A cell-born baby.

  
Hell, even Sephiroth had parents. Cruel they were to raise him in a laboratory.. at least they loved him. At the very least, he was born out of the passion of their jobs, and Sephiroth was growing into a handsome young man, settled and strong—sure, a little silly, no hair off his silver head. 

  
He belonged. Angeal belonged. Even Zack the puppy, Cloud.. Genesis didn’t. 

  
Not wanting to break down a second time in this week, he sunk to his knees and drew in deep breaths, drawing his eyes away from the reflective glass glaring down at him. That was all he was, just some being that deserved to be spat upon, viewed as a knave, a slave to the powerful.

  
What was the use of being good at Materia when everyone else could with the proper training? He was going to become obsolete if Angeal or Sephiroth matched his caliber, if Cloud learnt how to spread his wings. He wanted him to reach his full potential, still wanted to assist him as much as he could to get there.  
It was rather strange.

  
He had a lingering thought that he would be envious of what they had, that he would resist their growth in order for himself to be higher. He expected himself to pull back and try and strive too high and crash horribly. It was a feeling as if he was supposed to do all that, but he didn’t want to.

  
The thought of his four friends soaring higher while he watched from below brought a smile to his face. It was alright if they kept getting better and better, if they improved themselves by his hand. He didn’t mind being below them as long as he wouldn’t be left back forgotten.

  
Perhaps, that was why he was often left in charge of the squadron they made. While Angeal was the voice of reason, he was the one who held their hands and forced him up their seats, push them to step into a new horizon. 

  
And yet…

  
.

  
The thought of them turning around to take care of him afterwards.. didn’t seem all that bad. 

  
Lifting himself from the floor, he stepped out of the pale bathroom, out of that compact place of near white walls and tiles. Fastening his silver earring on his ear, he glanced at it as it shone even in the dark, so radiant as his friend Angeal, so moon kissed as Sephiroth’s hair. 

  
Hovering to his night table, he pulled upon the drawers to check a small treasure-chest the size of both his palms put together and flicked open the knob. He almost snickered at the number of rings of silver, small bands of titanium and little intricate pieces of obsidian, onyx and rubies rested inside. Naturally he went for the titanium bands or the obsidian jewelry for his PVs, today was a special day, so he chose the companion set of ruby rings. 

  
He thought of giving one pair to Cloud before he finally giggled. Cloud didn’t seem like the kind who would adorn himself with jewelry, pretty that he was. He didn’t even need them, being so adorable and child-like. 

  
Glancing at the clock and slightly widening his eyes that he still had an hour till he met up with the young blond, he shook his head in disbelief. He couldn’t have been sulking for only ten minutes, that had to be ten hours!

  
He slung a sleeveless black vest that ran down to touch his knees, and a random necklace that hung too low he twirled it twice before it settled on his chest. He wasn’t trying to dress in a feminine manner nor to impress, little trinkets seemed to help him be content with his image. It accentuated his softer edges, his prettiness that his fan club made him smile about.

  
He decided not to top it off with his knee-high leather boots, going for ones that brushed an inch over his ankles, and brown at that. He was not going for a PV, he was not going out to train. No.. he was going to have a relaxing time watching his favourite book come alive.

  
His uniform was too boring for the job, and his leathers were a little too reminiscent of his job—of Gackt. He wanted something that accentuated Genesis, the one behind all those faces. Cloud was not dating Gackt, he was dating the lowly human under that demon king he pretends to be. 

He hoped it was enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ fic-recs come next week, and twitter and tumblr are both AmareinMortis.


	13. Awkward beans try to sort things through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strifesodos, that is all. Other characters in mentions, and a silly sitcom that.. *X-Files theme plays*
> 
> Only warning: it's a fluffball of fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Double chapter this week too, as I'm still ahead of schedule, but next week we go back to one unless this book writes itself as it did.  
> \- There originally was a chapter before this, but with how it's flowing, it goes better after this and the one after.  
> \- Wish me luck, I have a huge exam this Friday OTL  
> \- Fic recs! Next chapter.  
> \- note to self, don't drop ship in the middle of writing one.
> 
> Anyroad, without further ado, happy reading~ 
> 
> Edit: golly gee, so many typographical errors in this one. I should probably invest in an editor.

\--

The young blond pondered about how in the everliving hell did he not get a cardiac arrest. He could’ve sworn his heart raced three times faster than the healthy amount. 

  
He was not calm. He was not able to bring himself back to earth, back to where he should be, stoic and unassuming. No, his heart thundered in the ribcage—it was a big surprise as to how it didn’t break bones with the thrashing around it was doing. 

  
He was walking to Genesis’ dormitory. To enjoy a nice dinner with him, his upperclassman, his idol, his crush.

  
When that five lettered word came into his psyche, his heart stopped for a moment. It finally tired of doing the manic jumping jacks it was doing and resorted to beating slower, returning to normal. He was crushing after his upperclassman who has been nothing but a friend to him, someone who shared interests in some hobbies, who stared at him with those beautiful baby blue eyes.

  
This very same boy who seemed to be Sephiroth’s moral compass, Angeal’s only friend from Banora. As a matter of fact, he was the sole friend of the two who spent their childhoods in an isolated setting. Sephiroth due to ShinRa Academy’s capricious methods, and Angeal… he really sure why. The raven-haired Captain of the Fencing Club had the personality of one of the best people Cloud could list. 

  
Honourable, integral, kind, strong, cool, and friendly. The blond could list more but none came in this moment of racing thoughts. 

  
It was perhaps one of the strangest parts that Genesis seemed to be the one keeping the two together, so adhesive with his lack of restraint, with his openly expressive ways. Cloud was sure that Angeal and Sephiroth wouldn’t have conversed as much as they currently did if Genesis wasn’t the one who started weaving the web—whether they were good conversations or not. 

  
Genesis was very, very exclusive with who he wanted as his friend. He didn’t just interact with anybody. He was only talkative as Sephiroth and Angeal were a little too quiet to speak over him, even stoic for they were satisfied with whatever they got. Outside of his friend squadron, he didn’t even glance at people, keeping those azure eyes skyward, or on the book that never left his hands or blazer. If students commenced an interaction with him, it was curt and with a sneer that was warning them of the implication of bothering him needlessly. 

  
That was what earnt his “arrogant” title by most students. 

  
Cloud was only in luck that Genesis did not dismiss him after their first talk. Lady fortune came to his hand when he piqued his interest by showing his knowledge on LOVELESS. Had he not done so; he would’ve been set aside by the auburn teen as just a ‘cute face but with no soul under it’.

  
It became common knowledge that Genesis does not waste time. Either be worth his fleeting seconds or be gone.

  
What had Cloud’s heart shriek was not how Genesis was his two friend’s glue, but.. Genesis was the same person as the idol Cloud held to the highest pedestal, on the same footing as Sephiroth, on a spectrum elsewhere. The auburn upperclassman must’ve assumed that the blond was only crushing after him due to his revealed identity as Gackt. 

  
And certainly, Cloud did not have a crush on Gackt. He admired the heck out of him, that much was correct. Love? It didn’t seem as that.

  
These feelings inside of him, the thrill in his nerves, the warmth in his heart, the inability to focus in his mind.. these developed over the passage of time spent with Genesis, rather than the telly segments of the singer he so looked up to. Gackt was more of a hero to him, someone who would never be in equal footing to him due to being five steps ahead. The one who he wanted to bunch into his arms, the one he wanted to.. wanted to kiss was not Gackt the beautiful, flawless and dark humoured singer, but Genesis: the bright, slightly temperamental, literary savvy and Head of the Drama Club.

  
He was sure in this moment of solemn given to him, courtesy of Genesis who seated him on the scarlet couch near the telly while he prepared something in the kitchen, that Cloud realized he really, truly deeply loved Genesis for being Genesis. That being said, if Genesis did not feel the same, he was going to put all his possible effort to back away—not without the request to be friends with him. 

  
It was going to be hard to keep his space after the rejection. For the auburn teen, he was going to try. He couldn’t afford to be selfish. 

  
“Cloud, are you a fan of spaghetti?” Genesis’ soft voice rang out from the other side, uncertainly laced in that smile. Cloud gave a rapid nod in response and the teen rushed back in, not so subtly muttering, ‘oh thank the goddess’.

  
It was cute to see that he wasn’t the only one nervous.

  
The telly on the wall of the larger room displayed some strange program, calling it “Turk Supernatural Investigation”, with the actors who were playing the ‘Turks’ strangely resembling the members of the Student Council. Heck, they were using the same name for Gaia’s sake.

  
Did the students consent to their names and closely alike faces to be used on screen like this? His brother would surely refuse… they guys looked a lot older than their real-life counterparts, and their voices were quite off, Cloud was snickering at how it sounded like Reno had a second try at puberty.

Tseng was the only one who had effort put into his character, resembling the Treasurer if his hair was a little shorter. 

  
For some reason, he was watching it with the enthusiasm of a puppy who caught sight of a flying frisbee. While Genesis was in the kitchen presumably warming up their dinner, Cloud focused on the strange program. He contemplated texting his brothers about it, finding Lazard’s name appear in the mentions, but not one of Rufus. 

  
Lazard was the oldest after all, Rufus was the middle, leaving Cloud to be the youngest. Lazard and Rufus were deeply involved in the business side of ShinRa Academy, while Cloud centered on wherever Zack went, finding himself wishing to spend less and lesser time with his intimidating brothers. 

  
The “Turks” were exploring a spot in Midgar which they called the “Sector 5 Slums”, meeting up with a couple of children and adults who were writhing away, too poor to survive the harsh conditions that Midgar’s atmosphere was falling into due to the Mako concentration all over the place, the Lifestream depleting for some reason. 

  
Of course, this is Cloud’s first time ever watching this show, he had no idea of the history of what these guys were working with, what they meant by some of the terminology they used and what the goal of all this was. He doubted Genesis subscribing to this, busy schedules and all, and lack of interest. He was more of the soap-opera/sitcom kind of guy, as far as Cloud could go in the assuming game. 

  
He wouldn’t be surprised if Genesis made one, given the Drama Club, his musical career…

  
“You really watching that Turk show thing?” gloved in oven-mittens and holding a pan that held their dinner, Genesis had an incredulous brow raised at him, smiling as he set the pot on the coffee table. “Wonders never cease..”

  
The blond bellowed a laugh, following Genesis’ still raised brows.

  
“There’s a first time for everything.” He could only answer, unsure if the show was so bad it was good, or it was just on the alright scale. The acting and the character setting had him unable to take it seriously, but the topics were so.. irregular, it lived up to its title. “It’s gotten me to think about some of the mysteries of the Planet.”

  
“Indeed,” the auburn boy made a quick march to the kitchen cabinet to pull bowls and cutlery before returning to him, seating himself on a recliner right across the couch Cloud sat on, “to ponder the mystery in itself is a gift.”

  
Cloud smiled a little at that, “the gift of the goddess.. does it exist?”

"Oh yes, yes it does." Bright blue eyes gleamed. "Her gift.. everlasting." 

  
The food that was placed infront of them had a great aroma, and Cloud’s stomach made a funny growl as he took in the scent so inviting, so cruel to his hungered belly. Genesis handed him the tongs to pull the stringy noodles, busying himself with a glass of water. The blond almost raised a brow at the choice of beverage, expecting for a moment that he would delight himself with wine or something in homage to Banora, but all he picked after was a cold drink of Sprite.

  
Was he trying to keep himself in check? Preventing himself from drinking silly and committing an action he would soon regret..

  
He must’ve been gandering for too long that he was greeted with an amused smile by the older teen. The tongs were a sudden weight in his hand that he couldn’t carry, slipping back into the bowl in a careless drop.

  
“You’re just about fifteen years old, aren’t you, Cloud?” 

  
At the question of his age, the blond almost threw another fit of laughter. _That’s what he was curious about?_

  
“I’m becoming nineteen this August, Genesis.” He answered in a matter-of-fact style, baffled that the auburn teen thought of him of a wee child and not one who was close to his age. Sure, he was youthful, a little short, but time was going to change that. He was old enough to be of drinking age, and old enough to have his forms signed at the Academy.

  
_Did Genesis think he brought his mother everywhere?_

  
“I was quite certain that…” Genesis blinked before glancing at the floor as if he had a revelation revealed to him. Was he expecting the blond to be much younger than him? 

  
“I apologize if it’s something that bothers you…” He wouldn’t understand why that should be a problem, but if it ruined his only slight chance with the beautiful upperclassman, he’ll take it as it is.

  
“No, not at all! I was just.. surprised, is all.” Seeing the ever-smiling male jump and raise his hands in defense was truly an adorable sight. Did Angeal and Sephiroth see this shy side of Genesis often? Cloud would completely understand the softness in their eyes every time he was involved.

  
For how strong and confident he carries himself to be, being the one who gives directions to his squadron, it was cute to see him not that way in private. He was so nervous, so easily flustered. 

  
How many times did Cloud catch him stumbling on his thoughts?

  
The program returning on air on the telly interrupted them, both of them glancing with slight amusement as the character who played “Reno” ended up screaming as he broke the brake lever for the helicopter he was riding. “Rude” silently contemplated life as he made his way to the door, beckoning Reno to follow him for a little skydiving trip.

Reno exclaimed that he had to be kidding, jumping off the helicopter and land onto the heart of mountainous lands. Indeed, they were kidding, but it was better than dying with the ship.

  
“Oh, just listen to the bald fellow.” Genesis pointed at the screen with an open palm before resting it upon his face, snickering at the bickering agents. “At least parachutes should lessen the fall..”

  
“Better yet, pack with jet-pack boots!” Cloud joined him in a deadpan tone, and Genesis pointed at him.

  
“Should’ve had Cloud in your Black-Ops.”

  
“Turks.” The boy corrected, and he earned an indignant brow. “That’s what they’re called in this mess.”

  
The scene switched to “Tseng” and “Elena” who were trudging through a snowy cave—when did they leave the ‘Sector 5 Slums’? They probably heard of the mini incident with Reno’s helicopter crash and were investigating the cause of it. 

  
The blond shook his head. It was obvious that Reno simply pulled on it too hard causing it to break. The Turks had the impression that he was attacked by a force that they couldn’t catch on their radar. Then again.. Reno didn’t have super strength, and the vehicle seems to have damages done on the lower end.

  
It was burning as if it was struck by a fire spell. No wonder the brakes tore off. 

  
They ate their dinner, Cloud’s eyes glued to the screen in sheer curiosity of where this show was heading to, while Genesis started to read some of the theories on his PHS, specifically the spoilers for it. To his misfortune, there were not a lot of discussions about the show that he could access as ShinRa Academy security claimed it was to “avoid conflict”.

  
It was hard not to laugh at Genesis swearing and saying, “just how stupid is censoring any discussion about this show protecting the rights of the students’ names used in this? They practically look like them, and it’s public!”

  
It was pretty odd to have it out in the public as if the actors—who were modelled off students, were actual people doing supernatural studies that wasn’t open for discussion. What kind of telly show does not have public talks about it?

  
“They didn’t think this through.” Cloud could only answer, nearly choking by the cruel fizz of his Sprite. Gosh, this was how he was going to die by Genesis’ hands? not exactly his hands exactly, but a drink he provided? Who knows what the food held then. As far as he knew, Angeal's was the only one he could trust blindly. 

It tasted pretty darn good, another surprise to him as he didn’t expect Genesis to be able to prepare food. 

Then again.. he only did instant noodles and tea. No wonder people joked that he was a bit of a twig.

  
Genesis’s clothes dressed him loosely in this moment, looking so very cuddly if Cloud was the kind to like snuggling up to blankets. He had to consider that it was also quite stylish, as expected of his fashionable upperclassman who was the leader of the Drama Club—he could really tell that he was a member of the Club. 

  
That is.. if they had a get-up for that sort of thing. 

  
“I want to find Rufus in this.” Genesis craned a little closer to the telly, fingers resting on his chin as he squinted at what was displaying. Cloud had to admit, the high-tech they had in this show was impressive, it was as if they were not green screened but an actual place in Midgar that they had yet to discover. It was massive, something that was not possible for any budget a TV show could have, and something knocked on the back of the blond’s head.

  
It must be a real place, just not in the Midgar they know. 

  
“You think he bribed them not to have him in this?” The auburn boy’s question had him nearly rolling on the floor laughing by how much it was so far off of his observation, and the plausibility of such assumption. 

  
“And lose publicity?” he asked incredulously, earning a shy laugh from his upperclassman. “But it is quite strange that we haven’t seen him yet.”

  
He was certain that it would be a good incentive to entice adolescents to enroll into the ShinRa Military School. If they were shown to be skilled as these Turks, there would definitely be eager beavers trying to squish their way through, beg their parents that it was a decision neither would regret. 

  
Where was the prestigious family to show off? 

  
Cloud was only in relief that he had yet to make an appearance. No way did he want to be associated with them in any sort of way. Rufus might be the only one they would be proud to have, being that middle child who was the only “worthy heir”, Lazard to an extent. Cloud? Never in a million years.

  
“Maybe they’re saving him for the last episodes..” Genesis mumbled in conclusion, reeling back before giggling once again, “I have to get Angeal and Sephiroth to watch this. They could pick something at it.”

  
“You think Sephiroth would actually like it?” It was at least funny to imagine the passive silver pillar of stone called Sephiroth to be hooked to a telly show that was either staged or something in another universe. Maybe it was an inter-dimensional link somewhere within the gates of electricity. 

  
“That’s what I fear, Cloud. He’s.. bound to be hooked to this.” Genesis answered, seemingly downcast by the chances. At least, Cloud was not too far off with his silly thought process. It was noticeable that Genesis wanted the silver teen to be interested in the literature that he so loved before he could like something else. If there was something he disliked, he would prefer if Sephiroth agreed, rather than chew him out for it, or mention it to drive him up a wall. 

  
This alone had Cloud realizing that the oldest of the squad kind of… babied Sephiroth. There was fear in his tone when he sulked about how the silver teen would probably be all over this show, intrigued by the usage of the Lifestream as an energy source, these studies on the Slums, also the technology they used within it. It must be close to home for him, to his previous line of work before the Academics brought a change in schedule. 

  
He was a prodigy, there was no telling what he used to do before he befriended Angeal and Genesis. Only that he had a high reputation for maintaining the peace in Midgar. 

  
That’s also why Genesis was pretty close to the younger teen. He must’ve been teaching him the concepts he missed out in learning, in experiencing and he was offering it to him in his own intrinsic manner. 

  
“Why do you mother him, Genesis?” he didn’t want to perceive his friend through mere hypothesis after hypothesis. If there was anyone who knew Sephiroth, it was Angeal and Genesis. 

  
“I mother him?” he raised a brow, and Cloud nodded. “Surely, you jest.”

  
“I’m not. There’s a certain way to care for friends, and a way to care for children. With Zack, Angeal and I, you seem more friendly than you are with Sephiroth,” when he received a couple of blinks in retaliation, he continued, “more than to Angeal, he seems attached to you like a little chick to the hen. He doesn’t move until you do, he associates with people you do. He loves people when you do.”

  
Genesis’ eyes were wide, encouraging Cloud to keep going, “I know he may be a little.. awkward around people, but he seems almost completely dependent on you.”

_I thought he was in love with you, and I think.. that would be alright. We still need to figure out what we're all feeling._

  
It all came around in a circle. The reason for his fear of confronting Sephiroth was not because it was the same as meeting a suitor for Genesis, but a son who was spreading his arms to shield his mother, his parent that was not too strong to fight back the influence their crush imposed on them.

  
Sephiroth would kill him if he broke Genesis’ heart, not steal it from him. 

  
“And I have to say, it scared me when I decided to ask you out. I thought he was going to kill me because I am taking you away from him.” Cloud couldn’t meet those cerulean that bore into his with what resembled solemn shame and a tinge of pity. He must’ve realized that he was in fact coddling his friends a little too much, confusing all his feelings for adoration or something more. 

  
Cloud just hoped that he wasn’t the only one with the lingering crush. 

  
“I realized now.. I am afraid of letting him down if I reject you.” Although reluctant, he forced his gaze up to his, “that’s why I have to know, Genesis.. what are you feeling right now?”

  
It might be a bit for his upperclassman to take in. Being told that his friend was a little too attached to him to grow independent, then an indirect confession of his feelings. If the auburn teen misunderstood, it would seem as though he was trying to drive him away from the silver teen. 

  
Realization was dawning over those bright blue eyes as his lip trembled, cutting his words short by taking in a good breath. Cloud was willing to give him time to mull it over, have it process before he could say something impulsively. 

  
Something neither wanted to hear.

  
“I… so that’s why Seph was giving me those sad puppy eyes,” he started, heaving yet another sigh, eyes shifting to the ground and under hooded eyelashes, “I made him feel abandoned—not like a potential, but like a child being set aside..”

  
From this, the blond caught note that the auburn teen also thought it was a romantic disappointment, not familial. Of course, it was not out of the equation completely, there was a chance that Sephiroth was interested in becoming lovers, but he didn’t have the nuances around it. His feelings were still a massive void that would take more time in uncovering. 

  
Two children couldn’t do it on their own when they had feelings to get around. 

  
“But how could you love someone born out a tube, Cloud?”

  
Somehow, his query didn’t have the impact that Genesis was searching for, glancing into sapphire eyes. 

  
“Aren’t we all just born out of tubes and bottles in the end?” 

  
Azure eyes lowered as cerise lips pressed into a deeper frown.

  
“You were.. born out of a drunk night. It’s no different than being created, is that what you are saying?”

  
“I am. We’re both born without any love, but it doesn’t stop us from being loved, does it?” Cloud knew this was the point or now or never. If he stumbled even for a second, it was over. Bearing into the older male’s soft eyes, he stared so close, the teen couldn’t think to flick his gaze away. With all hope that was in his heart, he hoped he was compelling to the other. 

  
That his point will come across.

  
“Angeal, Zack, Sephiroth, me.. we still care for you because you are _you_. Rhapsodos or not, you’re still that sassy drama club head, that one upperclassman who teaches me how to properly use materia, still that guy whose smile.. keeps me going, who I admire.” _Who I love._

  
A smile made its way to his face as the last bits were spoken, but he didn’t care for how embarrassing it all was. For one of the first times in these troubling couple of months, he felt liberated. He was free, and Genesis was the one he could thank.

  
Genesis was at a loss of words, gnawing on his lip as he took it in. Cloud was prepared to be left waiting for a long time till he finds his answer. He was willing to wait years if that was what it took for the auburn teen to take his feelings into consideration, to take his own and realize what he wanted most. The upperclassman appeared so small and vulnerable in this moment, eyes shifting and drawing to himself, informing Cloud of all the times he didn’t bother listening to his needs. 

  
“Seph said the same thing. How birth doesn’t determine who we are.” Was what came after a ragged breath, and a weak smile offered to the blond. “I wasn’t supposed to find out about my parents, and I wasn’t supposed to tell Sephiroth nor Angeal, but it all came out one time..”

  
The small smile lifted with fondness as he lowered his head, “he then told me that he too, was born loveless.. he’s figuring himself out with our help. To see what it means to be loved and to love.”

  
Genesis stood from the recliner he was seated upon, steps light as he headed not away from Cloud but close enough to caress his face with a hand. The blond boy turned his head to face those eyes glancing down at him with indescribable warmth. The little smile added to that tender affection. 

  
“What I am feeling.. I don’t really know. I’m feeling generous or just overwrought, but I want to try what you want to do.”

  
“What I want to do…?” Cloud repeated, eyes bearing into his upperclassman’s. It was difficult not to lose his path in those cerulean eyes that drew him in. 

  
The teen gave a nod at his inquiry that came within a short, careful breath. Cloud was sure what he wanted to do, he wanted to give Genesis the love that he deserved, what the teen didn’t know he needed. If Genesis was giving him the chance to show it to him, he was going to take it. 

  
Thus, closing his eyes, Cloud took in a long breath to calm his nerves and let his hand take his and seat him beside him. Once he sat, he cupped the sides of Genesis’ face, feeling the soft skin of his thinner cheeks and drew him close, melding their lips into one. Those rosy lips were as soft as they looked, supple and so perfect, Cloud didn’t want to part even for a second. 

  
Wishing to see the face of the auburn teen, he parted with a rush of blush bursting onto his chubbier cheeks. Genesis’ eyes were closed shut, opening only when he realized they were no longer sharing the same breath. When their kiss had ended.

  
Cloud caught him as flustered as he became.

  
“Was that.. your first?” he didn’t want to address it, but his gut quite so demanded it. Once again, he was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who became a stammering mess. Genesis’ eyes shifted the side, with a ghost of a smile on his lips that previously met his.

  
“I have something to confess in regards to that.. please don’t be upset.” He answered, bashful and gentle as he was when Sephiroth complimented how important he was, how they could never let him go no matter how “boring” he would eventually become. 

  
“Good, I do too.” He reassured, frowning only when his ears caught on the plea by the sweet auburn boy. Upset? If he was not Genesis’ first, he’d be more than pleased. First kisses were meant to be with those you care for, not just a passerby. The only reason Cloud could think to be upset of, is if Genesis’ first was stolen by a wanker. 

  
He’d be mad at that person, not he.

  
“You too?” how loosely Genesis smiled told Cloud that he too, was grateful to be their second or third. 

  
“Yeah, before I kissed you, I—” he found a finger press at his lips and raised a brow.

  
“Let me say it first, since you asked,” Genesis’ eyes went to the telly that was showing some credits for a show they had long forgotten. “My first kiss was with Angeal. We were fooling around when I became 15, sometime after he said I was more important than his code of honour.”

  
Cloud gaped. At such a crucial moment? He wasn’t an expert at knowing facts about his upperclassmen, but he knew enough about Angeal’s code of honour, his desperate need to be candour, honest and straight to his word. If he promised something, he would carry it till the end, holding the soul of a true loyal soldier. If he kissed Genesis when he told him how he was more important than the most essential piece of his life…

  
How were _they_ not lovers?

“Me? I kissed Zack to see how it was. Just a year ago, to be exact, after my birthday. We were joking about getting girlfriends and got around to the topic of kissing and how movies make it the biggest thing in the world. We tried it and laughed our butts off.” 

  
Come to look at it, he was a little ashamed that his first kiss was not as dramatic as Genesis’ was. His was a very funny story that they slapped around anytime someone mentioned romance and the thrill of kisses of true love. 

  
“Do you feel like laughing your butt off now?” and boy, he nearly did at the sound of that. Before he could ruin the moment, he shook his head, smiling at him. Genesis’ smiled breathlessly at him, running his fingers at the dip of Cloud’s chin. “Did you like it?”

  
“I loved it, Genesis.” He confessed, caressing the upperclassman’s cheeks with his thumbs, “did you?”

  
“I did quite like it, this too.” He pointed at the hands rubbing his cheeks, “is this what you want?”

  
He gave a nod. Those azure eyes perused through his, trying to find an answer that differed. Did Genesis think he wanted to date someone else but was using him as a proxy?

  
“And you want this.. with me? You’re not doing this with anyone else?”

  
“Yes.” He gave a firm nod with his answer.

  
“You’re not doing this because I’m.. Gackt?” it was there the tower was beginning to crumble. The calm, mirthful upperclassman of his sank, breaking into murmurs, laying his walls down and revealing the not very self-assured and confident lad under it all. 

  
“I can assure you, being Gackt is a bonus for me. I just love my friend Genesis.”

  
The auburn teen merely blinked before his smile grew. “You love someone who is not even a human being?”

  
Cloud continued caressing his cheeks, frown deepening at his words. 

  
“I don’t see anything wrong with it. You are letting me do what I want despite being born of an affair..”

  
With that, he slipped his arms around the slim waist of his upperclassman, who raised his brows before wrapping his around his shoulders.

  
“Born of an affair or not, you’re my cute little Chocobo who took me out on a lovely date to my favourite play. I really like the idea of doing this with you.” Giving the younger teen a kiss on both cheeks, he blinked a couple of times, smiling dumbfounded. “Though.. I’m about to ask a very stupid question.”

  
He gave a little nod. “Ask away.”

  
“What are we supposed to do after this?”

  
Cloud stared blankly. And.. just _stared_.

  
“Cloud?”

  
And stared.

  
“Cloud Strife?”

  
And stared.

  
“Cloudy.. dear?”

  
And stared.

  
“Love?”

  
And… stared.

Genesis gazed into the camera that suddenly appeared in the room, suspiciously placed right in front of him with a horrified expression, _‘did I kill him just now?’_


	14. To expand horizons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Give little Seph a hug, he needs all the love he could get.  
> Thankfully, Angeal is there to make things more pleasant. I like that it’s more of a SephGeal chapter than anything else.
> 
> Oh, and bits of CC moments pop by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Next chapter will be one that will have brows raising. It's better placed after this one as it flows better.  
> \- fic recs! In no specific order.
> 
> 1\. [Dear Red Leather](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587651) by Modoheim. (Complete).  
> It's just the best ASGZC written. So cute, very relatable, and no, it's not kinky at all. All the more better.  
> 2\. [Advanced Release](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23994286) by DAsObiQuiet. (Ongoing).  
> Good golly, this one is so wholesome. No ships and has the AGS we deserved. They even have a discord group chat that is a fun little place to be in.  
> 3\. [ Goddess damn it, Minerva!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472038) by TyrantChimera. (Complete).  
> It's so cute. So fluffy with wolf Cloud being just a precious, protective wolf to Genesis, soon to Sephiroth and Angeal as well.  
> 4\. [ Great Minds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5404310) by ScreamingViking. (Complete).  
> This is why I have Kunsel in this story. I didn't realize such a potential in his character. So good.  
> 5\. [ Observations](https://m.fanfiction.net/s/7169236/1/) by SHADOWoftheFOX. (Ongoing).  
> This one is a laugh-fest, it's too funny and fun to read. I keep re-reading it.  
> 6\. [ Ne te mori faciamus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606653) by Kieron_ODuibhir. (Complete).  
> It's a lot more serious than it lets on, but great. More wholesome AGS.  
> Honorary mention is [Take Two](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23980921) by CorvidKohai. (Ongoing).  
> I haven't caught up since I'm not into a lot of the themes in it, but.. it was the first I've read where Genesis wasn't a screaming, potty-mouthed guy. In fact, this story is why I have a very hard time reading or writing that kind of Genesis.
> 
> I have read and liked so many more, but this is getting difficult to compile. 
> 
> Once again, happy reading~

\--

The silver-haired teen sat in his room that night, remembering everything that was spoken with the auburn teen. He should’ve been more comfortable with the room he was reassigned to. It had been years since he was offered a bigger room to better accommodate his needs. This one was wide enough to hold about 15 people in one room, with a telly on the wall, space for books, tableware, couches to align around, even room for his weapons and work he had long left. 

  
His heart stayed in the room he was once given when he was under Vincent’s care. That agent had to make an escape sometime after he became the age of majority. For what reason? It was rumoured that only the Student Council and another student knew—that student was lurking very close, and yet far, far out of his parameters. 

  
Upon reaching such age, everything around him began to shift like the hands of time that refused to wait for those who were falling behind. Sephiroth reached out for answers, for some way to attain clarity upon the matters that were passing him without a single glance, but only received blanks. He wasn’t informed of any reason for the changes save for his age being a determining factor of independence. 

  
There was a panel discussion on something, and from Rufus Shinra, the middle child and legitimate heir of the ShinRa wealth, that Sephiroth’s sanity was in question. They received word from Doctor Hojo that he was not of sound mind to make decisions for himself, thus requiring his approval for all that was to be decided. It was still under debate for the young President claimed that his Secretary was no invalid; there were no signs that the silver teen could not decide by himself or think wisely. The consideration of the elite prodigy to be a fool was a nail in a coffin.

  
Sephiroth’s mind and heart began to hurt.

  
It was as Rhapsodos would say, _‘in the blur of my hour of need, all ground swept under me. And with feeble arms beyond my capabilities, I reached for the surface only to drown further and further, sinking lower as I lose myself in the pinnacle of hopeless dreams.’_

  
He wished for that figurehead to return into his life, instruct him on what was proper for an adult like him to do, how to carry himself with dignity, with confidence, with stability. That ebony haired man in formal gabardine suits, with etiquette and polite manners dressing him everywhere he went inspired Sephiroth to stand as if nothing could bring him down. Where had he gone? He couldn’t confide the details to anyone, for no one could carry his heart that had gotten too heavy for him. No one could assist him when he didn’t know where to be. 

  
He was going to enlist very soon with Rhapsodos and Hewley. It was imperative that he stayed in optimal health and shape in any case he would be dispatched into a battlefield. Sure, the possibilities were not as high as they could’ve been, but at least, with his training, he wouldn’t have a difficult time reassigning himself into position. The void in his heart ached, it was in such pain as if he had been stabbed repeatedly, as if he was in critical condition. 

  
As if he was experiencing a heart failure and no one could tell for he was _the great Sephiroth_. By Rhapsodos’ goddess, did he hate that title. 

  
If Doctor Hojo thought of him a fool, he should grant him the display of his knowledge. He knew what it meant to hate, and how it could not be used in any context where it could be reversed. Where it was mere disdain, a minor complaint. Sephiroth was smart enough to know that hate is a strong word, it was from the heart, an irreparable damage that cannot simply be forgotten. Could never be set aside.

  
That title of being the Academy’s Saviour… that was worthy of driving Masamune through the Headmaster, to end his pathetic existence. The only reason why he hadn’t done so was for it would prove his father’s point; he was incapable of controlling himself in crucial moments. 

  
He was a freaking invalid in his eyes, and this act of mass violence would play right in his favour. 

In his hands was an old lesson-book that he was given by his caretaker. The man had brought into his life a lot of activities with books alone that piqued Sephiroth’s interest. There was so much of the Planet that he had learnt by reading alone, by witnessing these sights when he danced on the battlefield with Masamune, long before he had Rhapsodos and Hewley take his hands and share other places to behold. 

  
Vincent was that father figure he had yearned for all his life. The one who took him away from those mono-themed rooms and gave him a place to be. Those eyes, drenched in scarlet so reminiscent of blood was warm, kinder than the flames that they produced through materia—that he was not too well-versed in. He left that to his older friend for he bested both his friends when it came to the sway of the blade. The agent provided so much for him, it was a wonder to the silver teen that this man was not his true father—that he was merely a very caring man who wished to have a child of his own. 

  
Despite those words, Sephiroth had always found that Vincent did not view him as a child he wanted and trained like a teacher, but a child that was supposed to be his. There was a distant longing in his gaze, something that differed than how everyone else stared at him. Rhapsodos and Hewley glanced at him as if he was theirs, a friend and brother, Strife and Fair as if he was their esteemed upperclassman, and the other students in fear of upsetting him. His instructors had reverence similar to the students, showering him with distaste over the praise that were as fake as their pearly white teeth. Doctor Hojo was the worst, viewing him as a mere thing to progress his scientific journeys. 

  
A subject, a project. It made him feel.. it made him feel like a monster. An abomination that was created just to fulfill a sick old man’s fantasies—Scientific pursuit he so pretentiously puts it. 

  
It didn’t hold any care, no sensibility, no… love. 

  
And Doctor Hojo was his _father_ , gandering upon him with saliva forming in that long mouth of his, hungrily as if he was just a play toy for his profession, and not a child that needed to be held close and taught right over wrong. Sephiroth would not have known that was not the way he was supposed to be treated had his cherished ones not show anger over it.

  
Even Hewley was distraught to know how his father treated his son. It was obvious that Rhapsodos wanted to murder the Doctor, revive him to do the same process rinse and repeat, but to have Vincent glowering dangerously, cursing the ones that allowed the man to scoff at him and disable him from thinking for himself was the final blow to his psyche. 

  
It took eight years for him to realize that Doctor Hojo was truly mad. Even then, he had to maintain the peace for it was all he had known. He had to eliminate all threats that came to the ShinRa Academy, his opinion on it not mattering for a second. It was a job, and he had to do it even if it made his heart break into sobs, his body wracking in phantom pain, his mind swirling over and over between what he should’ve done and what was right to do. 

  
It may have caused a disturbance to his naturally clear mind, where nothing was taken into consideration than a mission done well, but Sephiroth did not regret developing emotions. It was lying dormant in him, forced down in any time it dared to surface, but now.. it felt _right_. He felt like a human being, despite his different chemical make-up, in spite of his upbringing, he was mortal. A special kind, but belonged to the human race nonetheless. 

  
Happiness was a shy one, it ran as soon as it was sought, cowering behind the stronger walls of peer pressure and indifference, in apathy and unwise individuals. As soon as Sephiroth attained the keys to unlock bliss, it was swiped from him. The ground tore open and a fissure formed, pulling him with arms of the mad scientist and his associates, denying the silver teen of what was promised to him, what he deserved. 

  
To be at peace, to be in tune of his own nature. 

  
Knocks to his dormitory door tore his attention from the book that was suddenly illegible in his hands. Tearing his gaze away, he lifted himself from the tatami ground he sat criss-cross upon and rose to let the individual who knocked inside. Guessing it was Hewley, his fingers pressed at the panel to unlock the door and welcome his friend in. 

  
To his slight pleasure, his friend stood with a grin on his face, so kind and tender as always. 

  
“Angeal.” He stepped aside to allow the teen to enter as a greeting, finding himself still incapable of simple gestures such as plastering an A+ smile and acting as if the one was the best thing in his life. For him, to share the space for them was his form of allowing them into his mind, into his heart.

  
And into his soul. 

“Alone in here once again.. I ought to have you move in with me or Genesis.” The older of the two commented with a smile that turned wry, perhaps due to the empty setting of his room. 

All that dressed his room were walls of weapons, and tatami flooring. Some cushions were tossed half-hazardly where a table and couch set would normally be sitting, with the telly ripped off its hinges that thus created a massive empty spot on the wall. Books were in a small shelf, all of them either previous textbooks or some worksheets that were created during his battlefield days. 

  
It really did look like a good training room, rather than a dwelling. The bed he slept on was one to the corner, laying near the book cabinet to the left corner. Bathroom beside the bed and kitchen to the right with empty shelves, reflective to Sephiroth’s nature of hoarding, needing, decorating absolutely nothing. 

  
His eyes caught the shiver that rolled down H—Angeal’s spine. Surname usage was a formality that no longer existed between the upperclassmen. 

  
“It’s so cold in here too, is the heating on?”

  
Sephiroth blinked, glancing at the clothes his friend wore outside the Academy uniform. A blue tank-top with baggy black pants that appeared very comfortable to be wearing—not very appropriate choice of get-up in a room that was rather cold. With the V-neck he had on, he couldn’t seem to agree that there was something wrong with the thermal system in his lodging. It was lack of belongings that gave that chill, nothing to concentrate the warmth into. 

  
“I did not believe it was necessary to have it on.” Frowning a little, he fiddled with the controls on the panel, only to realize he had no actual idea how to mess with the thermostat. In resignation, he glanced at his friend. “May you handle the setting? I have never found a need to utilize it…”

  
Angeal heaved a sigh, smiling not leaving his face, muttering, “you and Genesis share that one braincell.”

  
“He does not make use of the thermostat either, I presume.”

  
“Doesn’t make use of it.. he pretty much _is_ the thermostat.” It was in exasperated humour that Angeal responded, smile growing either in incredulity or in amusement. In one way, both of them applied. He was amused at his friends’ antics as he was amazed by how foolish it could be. 

  
“He is quite spirited..”

  
“It won’t hurt him if you said he was a bit of a pain.” His dark blue met Sephiroth’s green, “then again.. calling him that would apply to you too.”

  
“We share the same braincell, as you said.” He added with a little smile, astonishing the raven friend of his. It wasn’t often that the silver teen would crack a joke, so when he did, it was out of nowhere, shocking his two friends to no end.

  
The ventilations began to fan warm air within the large room, and the silver teen raised both brows. He should consider having it on, it would do him a little good to have some heat in the place. It gave that lively, homely feeling he had with Vincent. When Angeal was satisfied with his work, he and Sephiroth sat on the cushions that splayed around where the main room met the kitchen. 

  
“I should invite you with the puppy more often.” Sephiroth couldn’t help but frown at how Angeal seemed rather uncomfortable with the setting. It was easy to walk in a room that was not embellished with delicacies as Genesis’ lodging was, and not decorated with plants that he could contract allergies from as Angeal’s dormitory had. 

  
That being said… with how it did not possess that lively atmosphere that Vincent gave him when he was transferred, it would unnerve even Sephiroth on a particularly bad day. Those nights were spent surprisingly in Genesis’ room as that boy would crinkle into a scowl, pull the silver teen out of the confines of his dwelling and command his childhood friend to join them in the ‘friend burrito’. Angeal did not understand why but complied with such a gentle smile and strong arms, it had Sephiroth forget all that had to live with in those moments. 

  
“Invite me to spend more time with Fair..?” He could not understand the necessity of forming more friends than the two he had grown very close to. Sure, there was nothing impertinent about Fair or Strife, he just didn’t understand the need. 

  
It wasn’t as if Angeal was any better; in fact, neither of the three were social butterflies. Their auburn friend just knew how to hide it better, knew better methods to accentuate features that were expected of him. Ever catch him on a serious day, and he wouldn’t be as smooth and flattering as he presented himself to be. 

  
They were pretty much awkward moths. 

  
“It is unnecessary, Angeal. You and Genesis are enough of company for me. Strife and Fair would not be comfortable if I entered their sphere.” He avoided the frown he received due to his ‘pessimism’. It wasn’t a newly found fact that the two underclassmen still had shivers rolling down their spines when Sephiroth’s piercing green eyes bore into their pair of blue. 

  
At least Fair had the audacity to laugh it off, Strife quite so froze on the spot. Angeal and Genesis were the only two who never backed down in a staring contest with Sephiroth. At least… Genesis didn’t. That kid had too much of a competitive spirit to step away from a challenge, and that, he appreciated so very much. Angeal’s stares were more of polite gestures, the one that said to ‘meet one’s gaze as you interact with them’. 

  
“Yeah, but there’s no telling what could happen to any of us. For all you know, Genesis and I could be discharged and killed if we stray from the military—worse, if Genesis’ music career gets in the way of work. What are you going to do then?”

  
The silver teen’s brows furrowed, “I do not require company every minute of my day, Angeal. If Genesis and you were to be discharged, so be it, I am unwilling to find someone to replace you both.”

  
If he recalled properly, Genesis did insist that he spend time with Angeal and the ‘puppy’ while he was out with Strife. He couldn’t understand why it was a necessity to stretch himself. Crowds were too much for Sephiroth to bear, and his “squad” was a crowd of three people. His comrades were hundreds, and each of them he couldn’t recall their names nor faces, knowing he was going to lose them within the bloodbath they prepared. He couldn’t be bothered to make note for the pain of remembrance if he lost them. 

  
He’s only learning how to care for the two friends he has due to Vincent’s help. If he was still in Doctor Hojo’s care, the chances of him turning a new leaf and offering a genuine smile were nigh. Such emotion was not permitted to feel, it was not in his profession and were cased in a black box oozing with green, tossed aside for the Doctor to play around with. 

  
Metaphorically, of course. 

  
“I don’t mean it that way… I mean, there’s nothing wrong with getting more friends, Sephiroth. Expand your boundaries.” He was aware that his older friend meant well, he wanted him to grow and embrace the existences of others in his life that were not the two outcasts who rose to fame due to their peculiarities. This whole set-up of a normal life was intentional, after all. Normal people made friends, they worshipped higher ups, they were afraid of the end, wanting to make the most of their lives.

  
The auburn teen was dating the blond underclassman to be “normal”. No one has ever heard of someone of his elegance not interested in either sex, only interested in looking good because it made him feel good, worth walking the grounds and kicking those unworthy. 

  
The silver teen has seen with his own green eyes how the oldest of their friend circle—because let’s admit it, Fair and Strife were his friends as well, just not as close as his best friends, but that’s outside the point. He’s witnessed how Genesis wasn’t as secure about everything as he pretended to be. 

  
He was still younger than Sephiroth in mental years, far younger than Angeal, trying to keep his combustible nature in check for it was an obligation. A self-imposed one, for what? He couldn’t figure.

Age was merely a number when it came to the strength of the mind, no? 

  
Whatever that he was trying to accomplish displayed on the surface. The public really viewed him as the scary one to deal with, the one that had them walking on eggshells with as they were never sure when there will be a parade of Firaga up their behinds. Haughty, conceited, demanding.. the silver teen heard all these strange words associated to him as he did pretty, classy, shrewd, and inspirational—the latter mostly by Strife who happened to be a huge supporter of his music career.

  
Though, he wasn’t sure what “ _twink_ ” meant. 

“I will expand my boundaries when I deem it well. In this moment, I am still evaluating whether Strife and Fair are our friends, rather than yours and Genesis’.” 

  
And he wouldn’t blame them if they were only friends with the vibrant duo. Sephiroth was not… Genesis nor Angeal. Strife liked Genesis, and Fair liked Angeal, both of them learning under his raven friend as part of his club. Sephiroth did not join any club that would have him teaching the youth. 

  
Unfortunately, his reputation spoke alone for him. They were giving their minds and hearts, all he gave was a poster.

  
“You don’t like them, Seph?” Angeal’s eyes were soft, so tender as a mother’s embrace that appeared to be reserved only for his two friends. Sephiroth felt the need to return a smile to him, though uncertain of how it came off as.

  
“I don’t dislike them, if that is what you were assessing. I just—”

  
Like a bolt to the blue, his eyes squeezed shut, fingers clawing into his palms as his head began to pound. Angeal’s panicked call going on deaf ears as all began to blur around him. Was it that… woman again? That insidious giggles that he shed aside so long ago when his friends came to his side?

  
No…

  
_“Shall I give you despair?”_

  
_It was not a woman’s giggle, that was his own voice! In his sight was a huge obsidian wing on his right side. Masamune lovingly held in his left hand as he had it outstretched and lifted into the air. The land was full of an ominous smog, so dark and dull in contrast to its natural competition with his friend’s eyes. It was grey and with a thick concentration of dark matter that made it unbearable for him to breathe, and yet, the he who held his sword high was fine, smirking even. Black leather surrounded his body, dressing him head to toe matching the blackened skies. Latched on his sword was.._

  
_Was a blond boy much older than he was, currently. The man had panic in those blue eyes that were a shade lighter than Angeal and Zack’s, but far darker than Genesis’. The blond was dressed in blue turtle-neck that had belts and belts around his body to hold the holster strapped on his back for what it appeared to be more than three blades. A pauldron on his left side, a red ribbon on his bicep, and black leather gloves he wore on both arms. Combat boots slid under baggy cotton pants, with a long cloth draped over his left leg._

  
_Crimson poured out of the wound inflicted upon him, dripping down onto his magnificent blade._

  
_“Tell me what you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away.”_

  
_Sephiroth was grinning maniacally, so emaciated to the point that he was the figurehead of death. Voice so silken and yet not him. It was deep and rich as it was growing out to be, but this.. it was so hollow, so empty._

  
_Just as he was about to comprehend what was at hand, it began to shift._

  
  


_“The wound is not closing, he needs a blood transfusion for all the blood he’s lost.” Who was that?_

  
_The green-eyed male stood with his raven friend infront of a stocky male who slightly resembled Angeal but was a good foot shorter, obviously not a soldier. A peek up at the door the man blocked had Sephiroth’s blood run cold._

  
_They were standing at an infirmary._

  
_If they were standing in an infirmary, with Sephiroth and Angeal concerned of the condition of whoever was bleeding to death, it meant something happened to Genesis._

  
_There was no one else the two would only be privy to information without the President of the Student Council being in on it. While the boy was a condescending little piece of work, he was too clever for his own good to leave out incidents unheard. If there was anyone who he imagined knowing everything, it was Rufus._

  
_This was a personal matter._

  
_Sephiroth felt his feet taking him forward, wordlessly volunteering to have his blood used for the transfusion, only to be halted by a muscled arm. Green eyes widened as Angeal took a step forward, finding himself blinking at the Doctor’s words._

  
_“You won’t do.”_

  
_Was it his blood-type that didn’t match?_

  
_Before he could input his own thoughts, he was intruded by ones that resembled his own. These thoughts having the same question but for reasons completely apart._

  
_‘Why can’t I do? Mako enables blood of all kinds to be transfused. Genesis, Angeal and I hold the same type, we are the same.. human, SOLDIERS. Why can’t I be the donor?’_

  
_It was flabbergasting, to say the least. Sephiroth watched Angeal enter the infirmary with wide eyes. Why Angeal if he couldn’t procure the blood necessary for his friend. The Sephiroth in this moment kept repeating his question, bringing his hands to his chest and glancing down as if he was an abomination._

  
_Sephiroth himself couldn’t understand. He was raised in a lab, but he was still human. There was nothing about him that crossed the checklist to be one of them… unless they were not._

_As if the visions were trying to give him what he sought, the scene shifted into what resembled an underground laboratory. Huge valves surrounded the lower level of the place, cerulean light beaming from a small circle on each protected by thick steel. Sephiroth was with a younger raven teen, dressed in the same black leather as earlier, and the child dressed in a blue turtle-neck and blue baggy pants. Two black pauldrons protected his shoulders as two brown straps came down his chest, holding a blade behind his back through magnetism._

  
_The teen had spiky black hair flying in almost every direction, bangs parted from his face and sliding down the sides. Big blue eyes stared in utmost curiosity as he took in his surrounding._

  
_That had to be Zack, even if he was older and much stronger in this moment._

  
_“I’ve always thought I had some kind of special purpose. But I didn’t think it would be something like this.”_

  
_Sephiroth’s eyes were at the valve he stood head to head with, finding himself fighting the spasms that were shooting up his head. His vision blinked, shifted in increments as streaks of light scratched the surface, into the crevices of his mind before it ceased._

  
_Even this Sephiroth suffers from these blinks of this woman, it seemed._

_“Just what am I…? Am I a human being?”_

  
_“No such luck. You’re a..”_

The answer was cut with the world returning to him. He wasn’t in that dark place that flown by him in blurs. No.. he was back in his spacious and rather underwhelmed room. Angeal was by his side, resting Sephiroth’s head on his shoulder as he ran his hand on the small of his back.

  
Glancing up, he found the slightly older male glaring to and fro for the cause of his little loss of focus, his fainting episode that lasted… how long was he out for? Was it night already? Did Genesis return from his romantic outing with Strife? 

  
“Angeal, what’s the matter?”

There would be no answer arriving to him any minute sooner if he kept asking himself, he figured it would be easier to attain it through his friend who had to sit there and watch the strange scene unfold. The raven teen perked up immediately at the sound of his voice, smiling in relief as he wrapped his other arm around him, so reminiscent to the times he held Sephiroth and Genesis when he had “the case of nerves”. 

  
“Thank Gaia you’re awake, what happened to you? You were shaking on the ground for thirty minutes!”  
Thirty minutes and that was all he’d seen? Surely, it had only been five minutes. 

  
“Thirty minutes.. that’s not possible.”

  
“I knew it, you weren’t feeling well. Sephiroth, there’s nothing wrong with seeking help from us. Genesis is going to give a huge hoot if he hears his friend is not doing good.” Angeal clicked his tongue, letting the silver teen sit upon the cushion before increasing the heating in the room, running to the corner and pulling the futons he had neatly folded. 

  
“Would you give a huge hoot, Angeal?”

  
Stupid question, but it brought an amused smile to Sephiroth. Angeal glanced at him as if he grew a second head.

  
“Am I not? It’s taking a lot for me not to scold for being so.. so silly!” _for being so stupid._

  
With the force of a concerned mother, Angeal had Sephiroth wrapped in a blanket as he wasn’t sure where he could pull a jacket for him from. The silver teen merely sat there with a goofy grin, watching his raven friend fuss so similarly to Genesis when he was doing improv on short notice. For one who was usually calm and sating the auburn teen when he threw the dramatics, it was interested to see him doing the same for a story of its own. 

  
Genesis was frighteningly calm when he had to step up and grant assistance, while Angeal would be the one cursing himself for his inability to not notice the signs earlier. On a typical day, Angeal was good-natured and patient to Genesis’ scowling irritability. Sephiroth just rolled with either. 

  
What could he say? He tried to rile up Angeal, it didn’t work. When he pokes a stick at Genesis, he flinches and fights back like a little cat. It was quite cute. Here Angeal was the riled-up parent watching over their careless kitten. 

  
“My apologies for causing you distress..”

  
At this, Angeal pursed his lips. “Only apologize when you know you won’t do it again.”

  
Sephiroth’s smile shifted to a wry one. “That I cannot guarantee unless I know.”

  
He received a frown by his older friend, but one that did not expect immediate results. It was of understanding. He needed to be patient with Sephiroth as he did with all of his friends for the things they could not accomplish that easily. If character development was something that could be written in one line, there would be no such thing as conflict, no such need for life as it was. Existence would mean nothing without a little trouble, solving it and leading to understanding, then a rinse and repeat of that cycle. 

  
“I didn’t come here to upset you, Seph. Come, I’ll make us dinner.” As he rose, Sephiroth lifted his head to meet his eyes, unsure of why he had the need to—

  
“You can call Fair here. He doesn’t have Strife by his side, it must be.. awkward for him, so to say.”  
The older male turned to meet his gaze before letting out a snicker.

  
“He does have friends, Seph, but I’ll see if he wants to drop by.”

  
“If he has a friend over, he could call him here too.” The silver teen lowered his eyes, focusing on the hands on his lap. Why did he need to invite underclassmen over? They didn’t need to pressure them to amuse him.. they had their lives to attend to. Sephiroth should not be a priority, he had two of the most popular upperclassmen by his side, and here he was demanding for more…?

  
Just how greedy could he get?

  
“That’s the spirit.” And yet.. Why was Angeal smiling at him, so full and with gentle eyes? Why was it when he felt so foolish, so stupid, so immature that his friend was glancing at him with such a tenderness, as if he was proud of him? “He says he’ll be here with Kunsel in 5 minutes.”

  
He couldn’t understand. Why wasn’t he being reprimanded for being so self-centered? Here he worried Angeal and now was dragging two or more people from their comfort zones to stay around him in the room that was the equivalent to a dungeon to them?

  
“Reaching out to people can feel like putting your head on the guillotine, I know.” Angeal’s hand rested on his shoulder, and Sephiroth lifted his gaze one last time, “it never gets easy, even with best friends at times. That’s why I am glad you are trying.”

And how he felt so elevated at that was anyone’s guess. Sephiroth found himself needing to smile long and true. 

  
_Thank you, Angeal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for dropping by. Hope you all have a great weekend.


	15. Better off not knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Past) Origin stories, as who doesn’t love to see where our kids come from?  
> Mostly a Vincent and Genesis chapter. Sephiroth and Angeal are spoken about/in mentions.  
> Where Vince is a full mood.
> 
> Warning is that it's a very odd chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This was originally chapter 13/14, but it didn't sound nice to go from this to the present where it there was a little romance.  
> \- It got tricky because now I have to try and not make it relate too much to Crisis Core’s canonical word. It’s an AU after all, their lives are quite different, their outcomes are very much apart.  
> Yet... 
> 
> Happy Reading~ next chapter is a little humorous before things go a little down.

\--

That discovery was an accident. 

When Vincent searched through Sephiroth’s file to understand his connection with his beautiful child and how he was treated in his absence, it wasn’t a plan of his to read up on students Hewley and Rhapsodos. It was a second perusal through the secret files within the ShinRa database by will of his mentor Veld’s friend, Gast Faremis. Through him, he had clearance to these documents which were otherwise ones that would never see the light of the day.

  
He only intended to have a read through his son’s biography written by Doctor Hojo and Professor Faremis. Professor Faremis, he trusted for that Head was the only one whose smile reached his eyes, sentiment straight from inside when he cared for the students.

  
Today changed that for Vincent. What was revealed to him through his search had even him step back and draw his palm over his lips. 

Professor Faremis is… dead? 

  
If he was dead a couple of years ago, then who is this man who trudged the halls of the Academy? The one the students are currently familiar with.. is he a… a replacement? 

  
The agent had opened a can of worms with the curiosity of his son's life. Apparently, the Gast Faremis that roamed these halls is a body double, pretending to play the kind Head Doctor of the Medical Wing to keep from rousing suspicion. 

  
To keep from the two disciples from starting a contest as to who should take over after him. 

  
The real Professor Faremis had deceased out of a disease, apparently contracted when he created the cell enhancer, JENOVA. This “enhancer” was used as a mandatory injection to every student that made their way into the Academy to maximize their strengths at the earliest of age and develop upon it. Sephiroth was filled to the brim with JENOVA after he was found almost still born in the womb of his dear Lucrecia. The poor woman grew so weak over stress and her pregnancy, it wasn’t enough to keep him alive. 

  
It was then Professor Faremis reminded the team the previous success with two subjects of JENOVA. The baby dying in the womb could be saved if his body was introduced to the drug. When the baby showed signs of life, they deemed the material to be worth using for every member of their Alumni. 

  
Vincent shut his eyes, reeling himself back for a second. His son was dead—near dead with his sweetheart. Poor Lucrecia.. poor Sephiroth. How happy those two made his life, how close he was to losing both. Losing one was enough heartache for him, he wasn’t even sure how he was still walking with the blood of Lucrecia dressed over this Academy, caressing the grounds below. 

  
Breathing a ragged breath, crimson eyes opened to flick through the itching need to see if he could reach for something more. Sephiroth’s files were still under the works, it seemed. Every year there was something new within it, and each time it had the agent resist a retch. He was disgusted by what the Academy permitted to do to his son without his knowledge, without the boy's consent. He was mortified to know that they had him swear loyalty to them, to refuse to advocate against him for they held the rights to his baby.

They were not afraid to hurt the child of his, fearless to pin the blame on him for being a horrible father. And hell, the public would buy that without a second thought. 

_Why would the renowned ShinRa Academy lie?_

  
His baby was submerged in that substance for a good couple of years. Soaking in that pungent liquid until he was awoken only to be the Academy's weapon. Even though he had him decommissioned from that horrible life, he was subject to a triple dosage of the drug every month. Vincent did not consent to it, but the memorandum had it deemed a necessity for each student, Sephiroth not an exception.

  
Stepping aside from his silver child’s file, he flicked through the catalogue of digital files and handwritten notes. His current clearance was next to Veld's only after he had it transferred. The Headmaster was not eager to grant an agent exclusive rights in departments that were not his. Public safety being one of them. There wasn't a conference in place for Veld's possible retirement. Peculiar as it was, the Academy believe he is on an expedition of sorts, not a retired man.

  
For now, Vincent had the ability to search through anything the Head Agent could. What could he say? He deserved that right as compensation for unwillingly taking his son and positioning him in the stronghold. It was the least they could do to ensure Sephiroth’s presence in the goddamned place. 

  
Two names rang through his head in his son’s deep yet little voice: Hewley and Rhapsodos. 

  
Those were the surnames of the two children who were in the Headmaster’s office the couple of weeks ago, those two who stood up for his boy, extending their hands to him and took the reins to show him the world he missed out on. As father to the silver child, it wasn’t wrong to take a couple of notes on his little friends, no?

  
As much as he grew to like the two, they deserved to know their roots. He needed to know if they could be kept in the Academy, stay as Sephiroth’s friends before he grew too attached to them. He would hate to see that soft child of his contort with disappointment, with anger, with resentment.   
Not his child who deserved nothing but happiness. 

  
With that in mind, he swallowed a lump in his throat before clicking open Hewley’s. He wasn’t sure what to expect in either, but there was a churning in his gut that spoke out. He should probably read the calm raven-haired boy’s profile before going to the auburn one. Something about Rhapsodos warranted the cautious eye around. He couldn’t tell why, it must’ve been the way his eyes almost reflected nothing.. not a far cry from his son’s that led him to hesitate. 

  
Hewley was brought up by a kind old woman who went by the name Gillian. Interestingly, the name “Hewley” wasn’t of the husband. It was her maiden name that she adopted onto her son, the same way Sephiroth’s surname was listed as Crescent, which was Lucrecia’s. Not Valentine, and certainly not Hojo.

  
Hewley’s family came from a line of warriors, the protector of the small village that remained as modest and humble as his family. Stubborn followers of peace and harmony, Angeal was the only son born of Gillian, who had no siblings that were listed within the family line. 

  
It seemed that even during childhood, Hewley was very much in-tune with nature. Loving all that Mother Nature had provided turned the boy into one who was sensitive of the lives that provided them with the air to breathe. By Gillian’s tender care, he was growing into a headstrong boy with a heart of gold. The boy was shown to be modest and so grateful for every chance he was given, Vincent had resisted a laugh at himself.

  
If Hewley was his son, it would’ve been too hard to resist spoiling the sweet child. 

  
What wrought that little smile was the reveal of who his father was, who Mr. Hewley was supposed to be. 

  
Hollander.

Doctor Hollander was his father. That one competitor of Doctor Hojo, conspirator to hiding the truth behind what happened to the real Professor Faremis. Possible accomplice to the death of said victim. It wasn’t out of the equation if Doctor Hojo was the one who killed Professor Faremis in a pursuit for his position in authority. Doctor Hollander could’ve been a suspect as well, fiercely combatting the other Doctor by throwing proposal after proposal and facing constant rejection.

  
Vincent couldn’t imagine such a close friend of his son was the son of a Doctor yet again. Did Hewley have a good relationship to his father? Did he even know him?

  
“Goodness gracious..”

  
If he wasn’t aware of his parental figure, then the agent would feel sorry for him. For some reason, this whole trip of parenthood was softening him into a mushy piece of love, Hewley was another child he wanted under his wing, and he suspected the same would happen for Rhapsodos. He met them only once, heard a year’s worth of information from his son and he already grew fond of them. 

  
At least, Hewley had a mother who stayed by his side, taught him right and wrong before he made it to ShinRa Academy. She didn’t feed him with lies that most parents accidentally did to soothe their child’s rattled nerves. He was a witness by ear and by eyes that Hewley was a good, well-rounded boy. Those same morals were reflecting in his son’s rapid growth. 

  
Familial relations aside, he read onward. Hewley wasn’t doused with the JENOVA drug as his child was, according to the record. In fact, Doctor Hollander’s sketchy handwriting noted shock that he was given the smallest dosage and had already shown multiple signs of growth. His body didn’t reject it as much as.. Vincent couldn’t read the scribble but presumed it was a quick note on Rhapsodos. 

  
He set the note on Rhapsodos with the “to be read” pieces, not wanting to see that child’s file till he was done with Hewley’s. He had to brace himself for the worst with that one. It had red flags all over it—metaphorical, of course. 

  
Hewley’s administration of the drug was listed as one of the few anomalies that occurred in the Academy records, going as far as to say he had the potential to be as “perfected” as Sephiroth. At that very word, Vincent pressed his fingers into a fist and nearly broke the computer within the crammed room. 

  
How dare they.. they have the audacity to classify his son, what remained of Lucrecia as a “perfected experiment”. Oh, how they’ll wish they never wrote that…

  
Vincent was ready not only to end their career, but to completely eradicate its existence. 

  
Hewley’s body was strangely too stable, requiring so little of what they called JENOVA. It was a vast contrast to the regular students who showed little to no reaction with the dosage given to them, and an even bigger difference to the child he planned to read on after he was done. For better or worse, it seemed Doctor Hollander was at loss at words with the way Hewley’s body handled the drug. It was not only once where this occurred, but each time they administered the said injection. 

  
If they poured any more, it would prove to be harmful. 

  
Nothing more was written that Vincent could find, earning him a couple of minutes to breathe. So far.. he was relieved that within this mess of students with rough lives, Hewley was in a tad bit of safer hands. Gillian Hewley was to be trusted as one who—similar to Lucrecia, only strived to protect her child and continue the family tree that was declining. 

  
She had an heir, and that was all she wanted. 

  
Heaving a sigh, he set aside Hewley’s file to peek at the clock on the screen. If he could take about fifteen more minutes, he could leave without anyone even knowing he was there in the first place. Any minute later, he could assume one of the Professors intruding and causing a disruption to his peacefully, uninterrupted business. 

  
He checked the splayed manila as he scrolled through the list to find that last student he wanted intel on: Rhapsodos. Fearing what he would find, he closed his eyes, bringing a pale hand to rub the bridge of his nose, giving it a little massage before proceeding. Something about him came to his very last nerve. 

  
It wasn’t the child himself, but what happened to him that was striking a bad chord. He should probably leave it for another day, he should definitely take a read over once he could compose himself as he was currently in a losing battle against his wits.

  
He opened the file. 

Of course, the first thing his crimson eyes caught was what had him so tempted to close the file, throw it aside and get court documents to get a hold of the child. 

  
Rhapsodos—or “G” was not biologically born of the listed family. He was listed as just a “creation” rather than one that was borne out of a womb of a loving woman. The name “Genesis” came when he was signed off to the Rhapsodos family, otherwise he was a mere existence, a trial run to say. 

  
Vincent regretted reading even before getting to the worst part. He continued.

  
Rhapsodos, as it was still the name he was accustomed to, was one of the few children who were created by an experiment. It was rather strange as he never spent a moment’s time living in the ShinRa Academy until the year before. Sephiroth in contrast, was kidnapped by the ShinRa Academy and raised, away from Lucrecia and Vincent where he should’ve been. 

  
The auburn child was human by all means but born synthetically. The prototype of his son. What caught Vincent like a deer in the headlights was how he was born with the egg of an unnamed woman to protect her identity..

  
And sperm of the original _Gast Faremis_.

  
Secondly, there was another child that was born two years after by the same woman. That child’s name was not listed as the staff had no idea where she had gone to. The mother’s location was also unknown, informing Vincent that before Professor Faremis’ death, he hid them somewhere the Academy would not be able to pinpoint. 

  
The boy had a sibling he most likely had no idea about!

  
The only thing they had on record on the sibling was that she had eyes that were “green as life”. Vincent was rather surprised at how this mysterious girl was not Sephiroth’s sibling, judging by how they called him the perfect experiment—ugh, and how Rhapsodos was another anomaly they weren’t sure about. 

  
In fact, it appeared as though they had absolutely no idea what to do with him when they casted him aside to the rich family in Banora. Were they hoping he lived a normal life outside their involvement? Was it a surveillance trick to find the missing daughter and exploit her?

  
They were caught off-guard when Rhapsodos made it to the Academy, seemingly forgotten this was the same child that was born of Professor Faremis’ remains. In fact, they didn’t piece two and two together due to how different he grew out to be. What they listed as a normal child was in fact, not a normal child at all. 

  
Administrations of JENOVA were doubled in his body—so the handwritten notes stated. The first dosage didn’t have any visual effect on him, as if the body rejected and destroyed it the first instance. The second showed some tapping into his rather lithe body before it blew out. 

  
They expected such results to be present in Hewley who had a sturdier body to boot. 

  
Double doses were required each time they administered the drug into the auburn boy, but Doctor Hollander skipped a couple of months in favour of watching how well his body handled it. Strangely enough, that was a good judgment on his end as the boy’s body would’ve overheated with the scheduled administration.   
In a way, he did care about his well-being. That earnt him some points to redeem on his handbook of who was right or wrong. 

  
While Rhapsodos’ body took longer to take the drug into his body, the results were quicker than any other student. Almost immediately, he was able to control the new effects on how his bloodstream worked, connecting a little too well to it as if he knew his figure contained a stream of magic. 

  
That inert network woke with the injection of JENOVA, and now Rhapsodos was one of the only students who could cast magic without the use of Materia. Something that his son could not manage at his age. 

  
So that was the reason why he was allowed to stay by Sephiroth’s side—while listed as an oddity to them all, he was considered an equal to Sephiroth due to their prowess being in entirely different fields. Sephiroth had the potential to be the master at the blades, and Rhapsodos the master of magic. 

“That lock was easier to pick than I thought.” The rather shrill voice had the agent jump. Who in the vicinity could open the locks he placed on the door? He specifically engineered it so the staff would not know, so that the Headmaster would not step in, and certainly not one with expertise with swords.

  
He snapped his face to the direction of the door, eyes blown wide and resisting the urge to lunge at the intruder. What stopped him was the lack of height in the person who stepped in—it was not an adult, it had to be..

_Auburn hair_.

  
“Rhapsodos.” Should he be calling him that..?

  
_Just how in the hell did a fifteen-year-old boy break into the highly-secured room that no student knew about?_

  
Rhapsodos stared at him with eyes he couldn’t read, those bright cerulean reflecting absolutely nothing as Vincent glanced back at him as if he was caught red-handed. While grateful that it wasn’t the authorities, fear welled up his chest knowing that the file on display, the ones in his hands were of the child himself.   
Nothing about the files had anything good to say. Not something a child should know. 

  
The child’s eyes met his, and the agent waited for him to break the silence that had formed within the tiny room. Surely, he would be curious as to why Sephiroth’s caretaker was in this room of all places, in a restricted zone and perusing through confidential files. 

  
Why wasn’t he in the dormitory wing?

  
The child’s lips were in a tightening line, his lip chewed on as he continued staring with those listless eyes. Vincent began to ponder why he was here. It couldn’t have been a revelation of his birth that he wanted confirmation of.. was it?

  
“Sephiroth had a seizure, Mr. Valentine.”

  
It was then, within that pregnant silence that Vincent’s eyes darted to the boy’s hand, feeling the warmth emitting so strong and yet so tame in his hand. He _burnt the locks_. What a dangerous skill to possess.. they would have to invest in magic resistant locks if they hoped to have more security. Noting crimson eyes on his palm, the boy uncurled his fingers and there fell the remains of the lock. Ashes and crumpled metal dropped to the ground, resounding a loud thump! as it met the ground of the obsidian shaded room. 

  
Taking a closer look to the boy’s soft face, he found that the unreadable expression was one of unshed fear. Rhapsodos was afraid, so scared of what happened to his friend that he must’ve rushed through every hall to find the one Sephiroth trusted the most—who happened to be snooping in the medical reports of theirs. It was only understandable that he glared at him as if he was some horrible creature.

  
His son could’ve lost his life there and he had no idea? 

  
“How… is he?” Vincent froze at the thought of nearly losing his baby a third time. Two times was too much as it was. 

  
“He’s asleep, Angeal carried him to his room while I made sure he was awake, talking,” azure eyes lowered as he made a glance at his feet, “he kept thinking he was hallucinating.”

  
Vincent swore. “Thank you for watching over him.. you have no idea how much he holds you two so close to him.”

  
His gratitude went on deaf ears as Rhapsodos closed his eyes.

  
“He said he heard a woman’s giggle.. and that he’s imagining us.”

  
It wasn’t until the boy took a couple of steps forward that the agent realized he had the door closed behind him. Was there any other person who knew that the auburn child came into this room? Vincent really hoped not.

  
Blue irises flicked up, “you are the closest to kin that he has, Mr. Valentine. I hold you to a very high esteem for your help back in the Headmaster’s office, and even now.”

  
Small hands slipped and deftly swiped the papers from his hands that hadn’t had a strong grip on the file. Vincent let out a gasp.

  
“Wait, don’t read those!”

  
He should’ve known it was too late.. after getting a study of Hewley’s character, he should’ve left the room. At least if he met Rhapsodos at the door, this would not be happening. The child would not be reading of his horrendous unorigin, his life that was a huge conjured lie. 

  
“I know.. I’m not a ‘Rhapsodos’.” That small voice that usually had a soft edge was firm, cold and callous. “They’ve made sure to mark that on my back that I was not theirs. What makes this so scary to read?”

  
Suddenly, he wished that the child would approach him the way children complained: with passages of LOVELESS and nonsense he could pick from a theatre about finesse and disinterest in anything else unless it pertained to rising in the ranks. This serious, observant and sullen Rhapsodos was not the one that Sephiroth was not accustomed to. This was the side that.. was silenced.

  
“It.. scared me too.” Vincent chose his stance carefully. 

  
On one end, the child deserved the truth of who he was before it would hit like a sledgehammer, and on the other hand, he wanted him to stay as prissy and innocent as he was in the Headmaster’s office, the way he was. The personality that brought a smile to his son’s lips every time he described him. 

To his unending amazement --Genesis _smiled_ at him, albeit ruefully as he knelt, files in his hands. There was a swirl of warmth that welled up in Vincent’s heart. This child gazed at him with gratitude, such love that he perhaps had no knowledge of. If this was the warmth he gave to Sephiroth every time their eyes met, he understood why he was so fascinated.

  
For someone so young, he was considerate. Strangely, Vincent felt.. _acknowledged_.

  
_“All that awaits you is a somber ‘morrow. No matter where the wind may blow_.” When the agent raised his brow, he let out a mirthless laugh, “being hurt is all my family taught me. Allow me not to think of them well.” 

  
Those warm eyes shifted from him to the handwritten jargon, narrowed in concentrated as he took every syllable into mind. For a moment, ruby red eyes watched him, observed every chink in that mask of indifference, the way those baby blues gleamed as he sank lower into the scribbled notes. 

  
It was for the umpteenth time difficult not to take these three children in his arms and give them the comfort they needed. 

  
“Mr. Valentine, was Sephiroth born like this?”

  
He expected a question about Professor Faremis, about how they handled—mishandled the care Genesis needed in order to develop as a proper boy, about why the Rhapsodos took him in despite their clear dislike for the boy. They were not subtle about the fact that they did not want him around—a little too excited to have him enroll into the Academy. 

  
“He’s not that crackheaded quack’s son, is he?”

  
Vincent bellowed a small chuckle at the choice of terms for Doctor Hojo. There were worse words to use, to associate with that rat bastard, and none were decent. 

  
“He’s not the quack’s son.” And what compelled him to tell young Genesis the truth? It was something simple he concluded the first time he met him and Hewley: they’re trustworthy. 

  
“Thank the goddess..! I wasn’t sure what to say if you said he was. He doesn’t deserve Seph.” That sigh of relief told the agent it was the right choice. To see the child so pleased that his new friend and the Doctor had no relations was a sign of true friendship. 

  
The nickname was icing on a yummy cake. 

  
“Are you not going to ask who his father is?” he couldn’t help but smile a little at the auburn boy. Once again, he could see why Sephiroth adored him so—he too was growing fond of his honest nature.

  
“That would be a stupid question,” Genesis smiled back at him, small and with a little scrunch of his nose, “it’s you.” 

  
As the child leant forward in a giggle, Vincent ran a hand through his slightly long auburn hair, ruffling the clearly stylized strands. The boy merely laughed.

  
“Clever child…. Is it really that obvious?”

  
“Oh yes, it is. You both talk and act so similarly; I was having a hard time not imagining you to be part of his family line.” The snicker escaped his lips, fleeing as it came and falling into a jaded sigh. “So, have you learnt something interesting of my worthless existence?”

  
A frown replaced the smile on Vincent’s lips, disappointed that he caused that laugh to run away like a terrified child. Even more upset at the self-derogatory association Genesis had with his own life. It was cruel life he had, wondering why his parents couldn’t love him the way he did, to being dismissed at every call. How many times did they refuse to hold his hand, to take him into their arms as he cried to them?

  
How long ago was it that he found he was adopted—rather, pushed into the occupation by the Rhapsodos family? For Genesis to have no remote reaction to the ugly truth? From being shipped off from Midgar to Banora, to those savage people who should never, ever be called parents in their short lives, while they kept a close eye on his growth like a.. like a...

  
Test subject.

  
How could they do that to a young boy? To a child who gazed up from his dwarfing height to them in hopes that they protect him from the cold, heartless Planet. If Vincent was permitted to be with Sephiroth, never would he have allowed all that was done to him, and here.. here the Rhapsodos had all facilities to keep their “son” safe, all measures to guard him from unrelenting hands. 

  
And yet, this is what they have done to him. It was a shocker that Genesis was not a bitter person who held a mindset of a desperate man out for vengeance against the world. If he did, the agent would empathize entirely with them. Even he resisted with every nerve to keep himself from exploding this Academy. 

  
This child could flick his wrists and set anything he wanted on fire. He could incinerate the entire Planet and he refused to. 

Why?

  
Vincent assumed that he didn’t want to see Hewley nor Sephiroth frown at him. Surely, Hewley would not side with such an underhanded method, he loved the Academy, and Sephiroth… poor Sephiroth would be caught in a knot of his own. He’d be blackmailed to kill Genesis, loading his soft, sensitive mind with lies and heartbreak. 

  
“Genesis, I don’t you want you to refer yourself as such. Your adoptive parents have made a fatal error in not treating you how they were supposed to, how you deserved to be raised.” 

  
The hand running through those bright strands shifted to his shoulder, the other making a quick move to shut the computer off before Genesis’ eyes landed on the horrific discovery of his birth. He didn’t have to know that the Professor Faremis that they knew in the infirmary was likely a clone created by his remaining cells. It was not exactly the one who had fathered him. 

  
“You’re an incredibly important friend of my son and Hewley, even I hold you to an elevated regard.” He hoped that the child understood that he meant every word. The auburn child was the gateway to Sephiroth’s social life—if he wasn’t his friend, he doubted that the kind and honourable Hewley would’ve been. “To hear you lower yourself to such an extent breaks my heart.”

  
“Why does it?” the child coldly asked, not making any motion to swat Vincent’s hand off him. In fact, he was leaning to that kind touch of his. “I am just a creation, just something built in a tank. That’s not even a human.”

‘ _We are.. monsters._ ’

Shaking his head, the agent pulled the paperwork away from the child. When the child’s eyes met his, Vincent pulled him for an embrace that was long due. Pulling the child to his chest, he missed the slight gasp from him as he ran a long hand around the small of his back, resting the boy’s head on the crook of his neck.

  
“From all the people I have met, you are one of the most human, Genesis. Do not doubt that for a moment.”  
Vincent heard a sniffle and felt Genesis lean in, hands hesitant around his elbows but snuggling close.

  
“Thank you, Mr. Valentine.” The boy heaved a sigh of appreciation as he laughed in a mirthless manner, “Sephiroth really does have a good father to look after him. I’m relieved.”

  
The agent resisted another swear. He was supposed to be returning to his son after he reached the end of Genesis’ file, but now, he wasn’t sure how much time passed with the child’s arrival and conversation that threw him off his initial plan. 

  
The child must’ve sensed the bit of distress that was washing over the agent. The hands on the sleeves of his blazer tightened before it loosened. He was trying to both part and not.

  
“Maybe not today.. but could you tell me who made me some time later? We need to check if Seph woke up or not.”

  
It was unfortunate that his need to part was weighed heavier than the urge to keep the child in his arms. There was a chance that Sephiroth would fall into a panicked state if his friends or his caretaker was not around. While Genesis pieced their relationship together, the silver-haired boy had yet to attain the first clue to who Vincent truly was. 

  
“You’re right. We have to mosey on.”

  
At this, Genesis broke into a snickering fit.

  
“Did you honestly say _mosey on_? That’s so old man language!”

  
Vincent couldn’t help but do the same, pulling on the child’s cheek as he parted with reluctance that he never once had. 

  
“What do you know about language, kid?”

  
“Enough to know you’re out to date.”

  
“Is it out to date, or are you making an excuse for not having a wide vocabulary?” how long has it been since he had joked? When he and Lucrecia shared their bond? That was a good twelve years ago. 

  
“Certainly.. the work of ancients.” Genesis was now smiling cheekily, loosely and quite happy. 

“I’m certain that your LOVELESS book is older than me.” The agent shook his head with a little pout.

  
The two shared a laugh.

  
“Let’s make haste. Sephiroth needs you, Mr. Valentine.”

  
“Just call me Vincent, Genesis.” 

_As I won't go around calling you “Rhapsodos" a constant reminder of a lie, but I can't use ‘Faremis’ until you know the truth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for dropping by~ Twitter and Tumblr are both AmareinMortis. I upload drawings there from time to time.


	16. Dumbapple William Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present) This one is probably the only chapter I call a filler.  
> It's time for a story time by our favourite little informant: Kunsel.  
> The story.. *points at title*
> 
> Of course, the story is..~ (2 1/2 years after the previous chapter, and a couple of months before the next chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Should I post another chapter this week? The next one is quite the mess.. it kills the mood of this one.  
> \- For some reason, I wanted to introduce Kunsel. That guy is hilarious. He seems to know everything about everyone. 
> 
> ‘-x-‘ means the past or the flashback. It’s brought up like a story, thus I changed the indicator.
> 
> Happy reading~

**\--**

“Have you ever wondered how the infamous upperclassmen trained themselves?”

“..Well, _have you_?”

As the jolly raven-haired boy found his blond underclassman unsure of how to respond to his friend’s question, he decided to raise his hand way up high. If there was anything in ShinRa Academy, there was one student who seemed to find loopholes out of loopholes, gathered information about every peer and staff member no student ever dared to search for. 

  
One second year student who was right by Zack’s side, and yet had knowledge from sources of the unknown. One minute he’s with Zack playing videogames, the next minute he has a very interesting story to share with the younger, bargaining tools against their instructors to give them favours, hell, even theories on people and books that had Genesis flinching, Angeal trying to pry, and Sephiroth giving a grin.

  
Getting Sephiroth to smirk with amusement was a feat no youth was able to accomplish, and yet, this one friend who always had a maroon hoodie over his head and a mechanical visor for “protecting his eyes” (Zack believed it was a fashion statement in all honesty, for his vision is a good 20/20) did it with one conversation. This student was someone unbelievably shrewd, appearing as one of the silly ones in the classroom until he had to answer a question that threw off every student.

  
This lad was named “Kunsel”. At this moment, Zack had no care in his heart if that wasn’t even his real name. Kunsel was one of the most impressive and fun-going friend he ever had, going on the same wavelength as his and was also one who accomplished the impossible. Even his little friend, Cloud, would be gawking at his slightly older friend in nothing but awe, gaining assistance from him with homework when it piled pretty bad. 

  
Kunsel was now going to share to the duo something he realized about Cloud’s current lover-to-be and his friends. Zack was not told the outcome of their “date”, but with the way Cloud had adorable pink cheeks and eyes that appeared as though he was offered a seat in Heaven informed him that Genesis was at least kind to him during that time pass. Heck, he almost asked Genesis during lunch, for some unknown reason, stopped last minute.

  
Maybe it was the subtle way the fashionable upperclassman smiled at Cloud, resting his chin on his palm as he snuck a chip into the younger boy’s mouth. 

  
Scratch that, it was not subtle at all! They didn't know the definition even if it slapped them in the face. It was subtle _only_ if people were not sitting in the same room or space as he. Angeal and Sephiroth didn't bother hiding how they took note of it: with Angeal smiling small at the two, and Sephiroth raising a brow before politely asking Genesis if he was going to offer everyone a chip or play favourites. 

Zack sent a prayer to the goddess.

  
It resulted with Sephiroth being slapped with chips, and Angeal dabbing a napkin to get the bits of grease off his face. Sephiroth merely shook his head, allowing Angeal to clean him and Zack guffawed. One of those best friend privileges was having a play in this moment, for Sephiroth would not, for the love of Gaia, allow anyone to stain his face with processed oils and disgusting materials. 

  
Thankfully the chips were not dipped in gravy, nor were they as greased up as some would eat it. It’d be too funny to watch his upperclassmen trio stuffing their faces with chips of that caliber. 

  
But that was not the point at this moment, what was to be put in emphasis was what Kunsel apparently caught word of. Cloud still seemed a bit disinterested to know, or just had a good pokerface as their silver-haired upperclassman had. When he earned expectant glances, he shrugged his shoulders.

  
“It’s not any different than our regime, no?”

  
“That’s what they want you to think.” Kunsel pointed an enthusiastic finger at the blond, holding back a snicker. “I found their second sparring session was nothing like the traditional butting swords, and get this.. they still do it!”

  
This caught the youngest boy’s attention. Zack could read him as easy as a multi-pictured book. That was the expression of a fella who wasn’t sure how his admirable upperclassman trained. Moreover, what they did for leisure. The boy was so hung up on the fact that they had begun their enlistment phase just a couple of days ago, unable to think of anything more than the fear that he would never see them smile again.

  
“Okay, I’ll pry. What do they do?” Cloud heaved a sigh as he resigned, the worst in mind. 

  
Kunsel smiled at them.

**-x-**

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  
The raven-haired teen started, brandishing a blade much thinner and shorter than the Buster Sword hanging on his back. His friend, the coy auburn teen, gave a smile that never seemed to leave his face.

  
“When did I ever have a bad idea, Ang?”

  
To his inquiry, the silver teen who ran a cloth around his odachi offered a little smirk. Once again, they were in the gymnasium, fooling around after the younger students had their classes and returned to their dormitories. The three had made this large room their domain, securing it under the pretense that they were students who needed special training due to their rapid growth. 

  
They flung that excuse wherever they could—more like, Rhapsodos slung that excuse everywhere he went where the school authorities raised a brow and got the “OK” somehow.

  
“Do you want a vague answer or a detailed one?” Sephiroth countered, earning a pursed lip frown from the oldest of the trio.

  
“You just don’t appreciate my valiant effort.”

  
“Oh, our humblest apologies, one blessed by the goddess..” the youngest of the three rolled his eyes, unable to keep the language of sarcasm at bay knowing it riled up the other to a humorous extent.

  
“You bet I’m blessed, Sephiroth! I saved your sorry behind a countless amount of times.” Huffing, he ran up to the bleachers, placing a brown straw basket he nestled in his arms, larger than their heads put together. Once the object was placed, he lifted the white sheet that covered the top to reveal apples that were.. purple.

  
Poisoned apples?

  
Never had Sephiroth seen an apple that was not on the tones of red, green and yellow. Purple was something else. He glanced quizzically at Hewley who heaved a sigh of appreciation, taking one of the apples from the basket and eating it as if it was one of the best treats a human could be given. 

  
He didn’t want to ask Rhapsodos what atrocity these fruits were. Surely, they were not going to eat each and every one of them, were they?

  
“Genesis, why so many of them?” Hewley held one with the care of a prized possession as Rhapsodos shook his head, smiling wide.

  
“Well, I thought of a game we could play. Y’know, crossing blades could be so boring sometimes.. we could spruce things up.”

  
The silver teen didn’t want to ask a stupid question, so he kept his mouth shut, wondering if he was supposed to lift an apple as well, finding the auburn boy’s eyes lingering upon him with an intensity he couldn’t quite catch. Finding those cerulean eyes bearing too deep, he reached for one with the hesitation of a church mouse. 

  
“What kind of game?” thank all good forces in the Planet that Hewley asked in his place. He had the feeling the slightly older boy knew what he was up to but wanted to have the road cleared for them all. 

  
“I was thinking that we…” when the boy took an apple for himself, he didn’t bother eating it, “balance these on our heads and try to shoot our swords at it. Whoever hits the apple, wins.”

  
Sephiroth raised a brow at the insinuation of a rather dangerous game to play, and Hewley choked on the fruit, glaring at Rhapsodos as if he grew a second head.

  
“Sometimes, I think you really have a deathwish, Gen.” he croaked, coughing a couple of times to rid of the evil fruit trying to get stuck in his throat. 

  
“And what of it? It would be fun to see how well we play darts.” Sometimes, the silver teen was amazed by how casually the auburn teen treated life. In moments where the lad should be scared out of his wits, where he should be making decisions that did not jeopardize his life, he thought the same way as he did.   
Perhaps, it was the lack of experience in a true life or death situation that kept him so avid of risking it. 

  
“With our _actual_ swords? That is not playing darts!”

  
“Yeah, but I want to see how well our dearest Sephiroth does. Will he cut us down like vermin or would he treat this beautiful fruit like it’s the spawn the devil.” Rhapsodos tossed the apple into the air as he drawled on, pale blue eyes narrowing into his green. “What do you say, young ShinRa Academy Prodigy?”

  
“If you want to die, I’ll play your executioner.” He only responded, biting back the scowl at the insulting title once again. It could be a little bothersome that the oldest male had a hard time understanding the burdensome role he was associated to. How much in rejoice he would be in to give up that stupid title to anyone else. 

  
Someone who could really take the trials that came with it. 

  
“Oooh, scary. I like that.” At that, Sephiroth clicked his tongue. He truly didn’t mind indulging the boy. Oh no, he didn’t.. it was just he did have to learn his place, a little lesson in respect would not kill him.

  
Well, maybe it will, that’s why he avoids it. 

  
“I thought we dropped that whole ‘Prodigy’ thing, Gen. Sephiroth really hates it.”

  
 _Gaia bless Hewley_. 

  
“’Geal, he knows I like to jest.” Rhapsodos stressed, heaving a long sigh and closing his eyes for a moment. When Sephiroth’s eyes met Hewley’s, he shook his head.

  
“He doesn’t.”

  
That had the oldest boy blink, eyes wide when they had their turn of meeting with Sephiroth’s. The silver teen glared back, scowl evident.

  
Rhapsodos swore.

  
“I’ll watch it.”

  
With how low he muttered, it was as much remorse as he could get from the short lad. Hewley smiled at them, finishing up the fruit in his hand, and Sephiroth placed the apple on his head, finding it drop when it hadn’t met the center. When it dropped to the ground, he glanced at it as if it would burn into ash, release a demon and possess him. 

  
Rhapsodos eyed it with an unreadable expression before growing a smile. “I’ll go first, come on. Who wants to shoot the apple?”

  
 _“Not me_.” Hewley immediately interjected, unable to hold back a shiver. “I don’t want to die nor kill a friend today.”

  
“Well, looks like you’re up, Seph.” Rhapsodos balanced the apple onto his head with the ease of someone who has attempted long before. “Take it as an apology from me.”

Sephiroth wasn’t uncertain he’d be able to make a perfect mark at the apple. Not to brag about it, but this _was_ something he was very attuned to. This was only new to his two friends, for him, it was part of his practice. His lifestyle, if you must.

He weighed the odds. There were two advantages he held, first being the apple’s tall height in comparison to the apples he was familiar with, and second, Rhapsodos’ shorter height. It was easier to hit targets that were lower rather than higher, for the projectile’s trajectory has to reach an angle above comfort level, sometimes reaching a little too high.

  
With a slightly lower target, it was a gentler toss for gravity did most the work. Think of the strange sport of baseball, it was easier to land a casual fastball. It was a straight toss that would hit the target that are in its line of vision, missing only if the target was a little too high, or far lower than the thrower’s expectations.   
He was not aiming for Rhapsodos’ head, so it should be fine if he angled his shot a little higher. Should be fine..

  
Lifting Masamune like an archer would his bow and arrow, he began to measure the proper angle to throw. The auburn teen wasn’t even paying attention to him, pulling out his cherished book from his blazer—how did he fit it there, he had no idea, and began to read. 

  
“ _The arrow has left the bow of the goddess_.” 

  
Flicking a glance at Hewley, he found the teen was observing the two, analyzing the possibility of a perfect mark due to Sephiroth’s fine angling. He was contemplative, perhaps persuading himself that this was not a pretty bad game to play if they ever needed to throw their weapon I the battlefield to catch an opponent out of reach.

  
Sephiroth smiled small at him before closing an eye, lessening his distractions as he bent slightly, stretched his arm back as far as it could go with the long blade before sharply making a toss. The wind blew with the launch of his blade, purposely standing back far away due to how long his sword was and having a small eager thought of challenging himself once more.

  
And well, having Rhapsodos flinch when the sword pierced through the apple dead-on was worth it. Did he think that it was going to land near his feet? Quite literally, he would’ve been blown away if he wasn’t almost plastered to the wall.

  
“I really felt the wind on that one.” Glancing up at the shining metal just a hair’s length above, he breathlessly smiled. For once, he scared the lad. That was an accomplishment. It wasn’t as though he never feared, it just happened he wasn’t too afraid of getting injured or being close to losing his own life as he was about Hewley or Sephiroth’s.

  
He could recall each moment Sephiroth would have those churning headaches, how at once he would throw whatever he was holding to try and use a heal Materia on his head. That was concern and horror, but not when it came to his own well-being. 

  
Here, he was thrown off by how close he could’ve had that blade lodged into his throat like the fruit choking his friend. 

Instead of growing hesitant to continue, Rhapsodos had the excitement of a child who ate loads of sweets, smiling to Hewley deviously. “Angeal, your turn!”

  
“What? My turn to balance the apple or to throw the sword?” Hewley’s wide eyes emphasized volumes of fear at the display of the Masamune through the apple than the older boy, and Sephiroth couldn’t help but smile wryly. He didn’t mean to cause him to be unable to associate apples without the thought of being shot like a dog, but it wasn’t his idea.

  
Even though he would’ve been happy to come up with something like that. It was too amusing to pass up.   
“What do you want to do? Stab Sephiroth or be stabbed?”

  
The poor guy definitely wished to do neither, that much, Sephiroth could tell. That was the reasonable reaction to a Russian roulette kind of game. What was this kind of game called? 

  
“Angeal, you’re tall.. if you hit Genesis or me, it could very well go over our heads or the apple.” He finally commented, hoping it was a little reassurance, “at least, if you aim straight..”

  
“I thought I’d be having an easier time going over your head.” Rhapsodos peeled himself off the wall as Sephiroth pulled Masamune out, drawing it to a safe distance, taking the two halves of the apple with confused eyes. Should he eat this? Rhapsodos and Hewley didn’t seem to have issues with it…

  
Azure eyes were hard on him once more, almost telling him to ‘please, try it’. Blinking a couple of times, he headed over to the basket and placed the two halves beside it. 

  
Later, he would try it. 

  
He missed the small whimper from the oldest boy who wanted him to try it, at the very least. 

  
“I think you two are better off trying.” Hewley’s arms curled over his biceps in a self-comforting gesture, “I don’t feel comfortable this time.”

  
Rhapsodos gave him a sullen smile, taking another apple and placing it onto Hewley’s head.

  
“Then at least, let me try hitting you.”

  
The change in the gymnasium’s atmosphere was impossible to go unnoticed. It was so darned obvious; any person could feel it as if it was written for them to see. It wasn’t tension due to a dangerous game, it was the sulk of someone who couldn’t attain what they wanted. Disappointment flown through the air, the possibility to avoid breathing nigh. 

  
Even so, Hewley assumed his position, smacking his eyes shut as he prepared for the worst. Rhapsodos really looked ready to run Rapier through him, pointing the crimson blade at him with a growing smirk, free hand brushing his bangs back. A force of habit, it seemed. 

  
With a shrug of his shoulders, Sephiroth stepped forward to be beside his friend. “If you raise the tip to a 45-degree angle, you’d have lesser of a chance of hitting his forehead.”

  
Rhapsodos raised an eyebrow, complying nonetheless. At least he knew it was no safe game, if there was advice to be taken, he wouldn’t leave it hanging. Sephiroth was given an inquiring stare when he repositioned his blade, and the silver teen couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. It was kind of cute how childishly he appeared, all wide eyes and uncertain, seeking approval from someone younger due to his familiarity of the sport. 

  
To keep from teasing him, he nodded. Refocusing on the tallest friend, Rhapsodos smiled, flinging Rapier as he would a javelin. It was a little off in its trajectory, scratching the top of the apple and sticking to the wall as if the apple was lava and wanted to avoid incineration. 

  
Rhapsodos clicked his tongue as Hewley cracked an eye open. 

  
“Is it done?”

  
“Yeah, missed it.” He sulked once again, this time Sephiroth found himself frowning as well. It was on his advice that he missed his mark. He thought of apologizing, but the dismissive raise of the boy’s head stopped him. “Oh well, chicken off and try, Angeal Hewley. We’re setting an example for the youngsters of the future.” 

  
“Yeah, but.. Sephiroth would be balancing the apple.” He murmured, giving a wary glance at the silver teen before meeting Rhapsodos’ eyes who rolled his. 

  
“So? Let him in on the fun,” turning to face Sephiroth, he offered an apple from the basket, “what do you say? You up for an apple on your head?”

  
Sephiroth gazed to and fro between his friends before offering a nonchalant shrug. So, be it, no? Taking the apple from the boy appeared to appease him just a little, his smile growing on a corner before shifting his attention to Hewley with a couple of hand gestures to say, ‘he’s all yours’.

  
Hewley heaved a sigh, giving in to the eventual demise called this ridiculous game that his insane friends had taken a liking to. He glared indignantly at Rhapsodos who didn’t bother holding back a yawn, content with sitting at the little bench by the bleachers with his book.

  
“Try it, Angeal. It could be fun.” Sephiroth astonished himself as much as he did Hewley when he gave a little encouragement. “You won’t hurt me nor Genesis, and the same for us.”

  
“Yeah, but it’s dangerous..”

  
“Trust me, it won’t be dangerous knowing you can’t possibly harm us.” Sephiroth smiled another time, patting Hewley’s shoulder before frowning as the apple on his head shifted and hit the ground. He should’ve been in position before Rhapsodos decided to place the apple on his head. He wasn’t quite sure how to keep it on the way his two friends seemed a bit accustomed to doing. He never balanced books on his head, how would he do for little fruit?

  
Hewley carefully adjusted the fruit back to where it was supposed to be, and the silver teen made a note to not move a muscle for the time being. At least, any head movement. 

  
“Okay, only because you say so.” Hewley smiled back as he turned on his heel, inching away from the now target. From the distance, he heard Rhapsodos snort.

  
“Yeah sure, trust Sephy for anything. When good ol’ Genny tells you, it’s ‘take it with a grain of salt’.”  
“You pour salt on my wounds, Genesis. Sephiroth doesn’t.” Hewley came back, sneering a little as he challenged his friend who huffed.

  
“I don’t pour salt, I offer reality, darling. Now shoot or I’ll glue feathers onto you.”

  
At that, Sephiroth made a careful glance over to the side, rolling green irises to the companion on the bleachers, “and take pictures?”

  
Hewley and Rhapsodos almost lost their jaws in that minute.

  
“Even Sephiroth wants to see?” “Not you too..” were spoken at the same time, and Sephiroth blinked owlishly. 

  
Hewley positioned himself, using the small blade that hadn’t left his hand. Sephiroth frowned at the fact that he refused to use the Buster Sword he had with him. Why had he insisted on using that toy sword when he had that beautiful blade waiting?

  
His hesitation on playing this game was entirely unsubtle with the way he threw his blade the instant he came to a reasonable distance. It went over Sephiroth’s head, completely missing the apple. It was going to take a while before the raven teen would take this seriously. This could be rather helpful to them in the future.. it must’ve been the fact that they were not dummies that had Hewley hide his true potential. 

  
Rhapsodos boo-ed him.

  
“That was horrible, Angeal!”

“I’ll try better next time..” Hewley insisted, and Sephiroth understood. To get the fact that they were human targets would be very difficult to play indifferent to. In the battlefield, he would be the one who gives soldiers their last rites rather than being the one who suffocated them or ended their heartbeats. “When this game is more.. honourable.”

  
A warrior that could be risky to place in the warzone. His hesitation can cost the entire army if handled badly. 

  
Outside the conflict, he would be viewed as the most human one there is. Rhapsodos and he could become monsters, demons if needed to be, but Hewley… Hewley would be the one who represents the people, the protective, hesitant due to honour and the need to give second chances, the empathic one. 

  
One that was necessary to keep the soldiers’ spirits up, not one on the frontlines. It would be a series of heartbreak, repeating over and over until he lost his mind. He could never close his heart for that would mean stripping himself of the Hewley name. 

  
Despite all of this, he could make an incredible defensive unit. Sephiroth had been a sparring partner of his and Rhapsodos, and most of Hewley’s instincts were to keep Rhapsodos away from harm, to be the one to take the brunt of the powerful blows due to his superior strength while letting the oldest release his onslaught of attacks. Hewley may have not killed, but boy.. was he going to protect his ally to the very end?

  
It was a beautiful display. Hewley behaved like a guardian angel, even in silly moments as these. Sephiroth could not emphasize the importance of this within their temporal friendship. He was the reason why they hadn’t gone too far front or back. 

  
“Come on guys, let’s continue till there’s no apples left!” The auburn boy quite so jumped up from his position, tossing apples at the two friends who, while smiling to one another in acknowledgment, had no trouble in catching the purple fruit, paying no heed to it until the third friend stepped in with a pout. That pout quickly shifted with a glance to each of his companion.

  
“I agree, let us make this a part of our training.” The silver teen eyes shifted to his oldest friend to give him the little attention he hinted to need with walking up to them. He earnt a small smile from him. 

  
“You two go on, I’m going to look for a straw dummy to balance my apples on.” As the most reasonable one of the trio began to shift, heading to the cupboard with the supplies, both Sephiroth and Rhapsodos exchanged gazes before…

  
Rhapsodos began making chicken noises, and Sephiroth folded his arms behind him, pretending to be one. Hewley’s eyes snapped up to them in a glare, clenching his teeth with a tight smile. 

  
“On second thought… I think the medical staff here are quite competent to deal with the two of you when I’m done business.”

The gymnasium was a natural disaster yet again..

**\--**

As Kunsel finished up explaining to them the story he was told by a reliable source, Zack and Cloud were gaping at him. The boy couldn’t help but throw in a couple of giggles as he was making hand motions to some of their actions—let’s admit it, it was hilarious to know upperclassmen who are held to such high esteem behaving like five-year olds. 

  
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Cloud started, first to recover from his shock, “they definitely train like war veterans.”

  
“My sources are quite credible if you ask me.” Due to the visor, Cloud couldn’t quite tell if Kunsel was glancing at him until he was smiled at. Zack was beaming in amazement.

  
“Wow, never thought I’d hear Angeal acting like a total goof.” He mumbled.

  
“My sources tell me they still do this from time to time.” 

  
Zack and Cloud exchanged glances. Cloud was probably having a harder time accepting that his upperclassmen do this sort of hunky-dory training due to the fact that a) he just dated one, and is possibly still dating him, and b) he had a difficult time accepting Sephiroth being a comedian with his friends. The raven teen simply laughed, imagining Angeal balancing an apple on his head or shooting the Buster Sword at his friends—if he ever did. 

  
That sword is so broad, it could cut into their heads if he wasn’t careful. No wonder he used the smaller blade more often. 

  
“So! You two wanna hear more?”

  
The two did not spare a second to think, shouting, “yes!”

Kunsel clasped both hands, grinning cutely. “Alright, here we go! This one time I found…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for stopping by~ hope you have a lovely weekend.  
> Happy Halloween!


	17. Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Past, three-four years before the present)  
> Sephiroth's perspective.
> 
> Warnings: it's violent, and is a 'what the hell' chapter. Poor Seph, Angeal as well. Heck, all three of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Once again, I seem to lean writing about the past and Sephiroth. There’s something about his exploration that clicks very well. It’s the most connective (?) to write. It resonates well.  
> \- Up till chapter... 10, this was not planned, but boy, did it break a floodgate for plot. I’m… really happy about that.  
> \- In light of this.. I'll casually mention my silly doodles on Tumblr.

  
**\--**

  
The first time the silver teen had broken into tears, he couldn’t decipher what his heart was telling him. His soul, so distant in those hollow eyes of his couldn’t investigate the cause. All that he knew was how it felt as if his mind had shut down, given up on him for a torment he couldn’t quite click with. 

  
Why were his eyes secreting water? Why did his cheeks flush, his lips tremble, his body shake and shiver as if it was cold when it was far too hot to function? Was death knocking on his door another time? Had he no knowledge of what the process of the end was? Had it been a time too long that he could no longer understand what the battlefield had him learn?

  
Had he become a fool once again? To revert back into a blank slate when he was offered a flurry of emotion, feelings that gave him a sense of _himself?_ These senses.. these colours that filled his new life.. did it not have a place for Sephiroth to savour? His life was only but a mere existence who had to lift a blade and skillfully drain the crimson of passion of his opponents, that’s all it should currently be?

  
Sephiroth blinked his eyes shut that time, gnashing his teeth as this heated sensation flowed through him. _Fury, anger, frustration_ … flowed through his veins as he could not come around what symptoms he was displaying. What were tears? What was this inability to carry his body forward?

  
Rhapsodos knelt before him, his fluffy auburn head falling to rest at his chest. Sephiroth’s tears landed on the bright strands as the older boy showed no signs of movement. The small of his back that was draped with the long royal blue blazer was now in a repulsive shade of purple and brown as the scarlet did not properly mix with the shade. 

_“Vincent Valentine..? That fool I put out of commission. His capabilities were subpar, not meeting our expectations. You can even say he overstepped his boundaries.”_

By all mighty ones, Sephiroth could no longer control his need to drive Masamune through the sorry soul of the one who rid him of his new-formed protection merely because he’s attained the age of majority. There was no telling what they had meant by putting him out of commission, for the silver teen took that as a filtered form of, ‘killed him’. There wasn’t a need to slay the agent who was only watching over him, was it that huge of a violation that he gave Sephiroth a life without abusing his beautiful blade?

Without expression, without any senses.. that was all he was to them, wasn’t he?

  
Unable to hold himself back one last time, he lifted his long blade and pointed it in the direction of the Headmaster. His eyes were blurring with these churning thoughts, breaths harsh as his lungs struggled to keep it together, his veins burning as if he was inside of a furnace, unable to simmer the temperature, unable to let his mind rationalize the situation. 

  
This is what happened to all the souls he had taken in the battlefield. They begged for their lives, wept to be spared.. of this. This feeling is what they never wanted to feel, and he made them experience it. By the vile command of this rugged man. There was nothing that was going to stop him from plunging his blade into this old man, was there? It was damned time he paid for his sins.

  
It was time to throw the cross he forced Sephiroth to bear. Leave it to die.

  
And as the only being that obeyed his command, Masamune made its mark, twisting, turning. The brilliant silver of the moon’s light showered in the fiery passion, in blood that was warm to the touch. What kept the body active. What his body appeared to be lacking, so frozen and almost still, save for the pathetic shuddering and shaking. 

A blood-curdling cry ripped through the air, but Sephiroth let it fall upon deaf ears, shutting his eyes and plunging Masamune deeper.

**.**

  
**..**

  
**…**

It was then the oddity registered his mind.

That was not the howl of an old man bawling like a baby. It was not as gruff as a man of his age and form.

  
Had he erred? Why was the figure that he stabbed not.. hefty? Not bulky and large? When he opened his eyes, he was met with a startled gaze, none in agony. Why was the Headmaster still seated on his large velvet chair as if he was not writhing in pain by the magnificent odachi of his? Why wasn't his body draining him of the crimson that kept him so alive? Why was the bastard still given the privilege to breathe?

  
Moreover, why did it feel like he forced his blade into a child? 

  
A gurgling cough sounded, followed by a spit of blood.

  
_“My soul.. corrupted by vengeance hath endured torment to find the end of the journey.”_ That was not the Headmaster’s voice that struggled with each syllable, not when it was as familiar as the one he knew every day of his life. So small, thin yet resolute, calm and chilling, so heartfelt when those words of his cherished book were to be quoted _. “In my own salvation.. and your eternal slumber.”_

  
As reality dawned upon him, Sephiroth’s eyes travelled down in horror. His sword delved deep into his auburn friend’s right shoulder, a perfect pierce that the boy couldn't stop, hands clutching the metal tightly. Blood poured like rivulets from the wound in a pace akin to a racer doing laps on the track field. Even do, the child resisted to cry, gnashing his teeth but unable to hold out whimpers as the blade sunk too far. His eyes were squeezed shut as blood drew down his chin. 

  
“Ge… Genesis.”

  
Why.. Oh why in the everliving hell was Rhapsodos here!? 

  
Whipping his head to the side, he found Hewley darting up to them, calling their names in a panic.   
Sephiroth couldn’t hear, he couldn’t feel, he… he almost killed one of his best friends in an attempt to kill the Headmaster, the one who allowed him to be under Vincent’s care, whether he liked the man or not. The Headmaster was still the final word why he wasn’t chained to his father’s laboratory. 

  
He tried to slay him, and now the blood of his friend was on his hands, dressing pale fingers in a horrible dye that burnt inches of his skin. The very same child who refused to gawk at him like an exhibit or treat him as if he didn’t matter, who showed him the ropes of a normal life, on how to communicate what was inside of him, remaining dormant for so long. 

  
Who now leaned onto Sephiroth, completely limp after struggling to unlatch the blade from his hand, crumpling to his knees. Removing the blade would cause the wound to worsen, so he left it in position, resting fragile hands on his shoulders that was beginning to shudder. His breaths were so heavy, loud and croaky like a fish on land, flopping around for water.

  
“Why.. why did you stand in my way?” _you fool, you… you…_

  
The boy shook his head, almost nuzzling his chest if it was an affectionate moment.

  
“I can’t.. I promised.” He rasped, falling short on words as he wheezed. Sephiroth could tell by the way his body winced, he was struggling to keep it together, resisting cries of pain that shot through him with every breath he attempted to take. His ears caught on each slip-up, eyes on the lines of blood oozing further down his chin. “I promised..”

  
“Promised.. who?”

  
He didn’t earn an answer as the Student Council President Deusericus, followed with the members of the Council and the Administrative Staff darted in, hearing the commotion occurring in the Headmaster’s room.

  
“What is going on in here?” the blond child shouted, rightfully astonished by what his eyes caught on. Sephiroth with Masamune stabbed into a student who was losing conscious and blood rapidly, and Hewley who stood there, petrified and ever so terrified, trembling in disbelief. 

  
The silver teen couldn't imagine what was going on in the raven teen's head. 

  
_Like a punch to the face, a knife right in the back, a bullet to the head._

  
Why couldn't Sephiroth understand.. _the blood is on his hands_ , and his alone.

  
“Angeal… I didn’t.. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to!” Sephiroth begged to reason, wished it in him to give the boy a reason not be staring at him with those eyes. Those lost eyes.. oh goodness, why was he such a fool? How wouldn't Angeal glare with those intense eyes, unable to pretend his best friend was not dying in his arms. “Please.. understand!”

  
Those royal blue eyes that gleamed with the calm cool of the river, so strong and resolute as a tree, as a mountain were wide, unable to stay in place as it went from Sephiroth to his bloodied friend, then back to the silver teen. Contrary to his pleas, Sephiroth truly disdained Hewley’s sense to connect the dots, his need to reason. He was trying to understand that something was very wrong—not with the fact that Sephiroth quite possibly killed his childhood friend, but that Sephiroth made a mistake while trying to kill the Headmaster. 

  
And is struggling. 

  
“Sephiroth..” he stuttered out, unable to do more than gape. Deusericus’ gaze darted to him before trudging to Sephiroth, glaring with sharp, piercing eyes.

  
“Sephiroth.. what have you done?” The student was perplexed at that, and it admonished Sephiroth. He was insulting Sephiroth’s lack of self-control and current overreaction, ignorant to his true goal. No way in the Planet’s energy source did he want to hurt his friend for no reason—even if he did, he wouldn’t. His aim was at the Headmaster, but of course, he didn’t expect the son of that wretched man to understand. 

  
To Deusericus, this was a direct offense to his family. There was no other way to take it than Sephiroth trying to deprave him of his loved one, for some reason, made a misstep and hurt one of his own. 

  
Thankfully, the discomforting confrontation between the son of the Headmaster and he was set aside due to the two Doctors stepping in. Doctor Hollander as if he was running a marathon and Doctor Hojo who merely snickered at the scene. 

  
“Looks like my son was doing us a favour and silencing that failure.”

  
“Speak for yourself, Hojo. Your disobedient child almost mauled our honourable Headmaster!” the stout, bearded Doctor knelt by Rhapsodos’ side, glaring at the silver teen as if he was a demon, without words commanding to step aside. “Mine's saved him!”

  
As Sephiroth could not make a single step back, the Doctor pressed a hand on his chest and shoved him. The force of such push removed his hand off the boy’s shoulder and he lost balance. Hewley gasped as he reached for Sephiroth who soullessly fell back, completely out cold as Rhapsodos was bunched in Hollander’s arms. Sephiroth’s eyes darted to the ceiling, so wide and unaware of his surrounding, he truly couldn’t move a muscle, barely breathing as his body’s weight fell completely onto Hewley, the only one outside Rhapsodos who showed concern for his well-being. 

  
Mr. Heidegger was immediately at the Headmaster, checking for wounds as he glared at Sephiroth as if had committed an atrocity too serious to be forgiven. The Headmaster’s son adjusted his glasses.

  
“Hewley, please debrief this incident to me in my office.” As Sephiroth could no longer focus, it was a last bit of surprise for him that Deusericus did not seem remotely disturbed by an attempt for his father’s head as he was about the safety of fellow students. 

  
His world was finally going black. 

**\--**

_The agent in the gabardine suit was walking. As every step he took had a meaningful purpose, he continued to walk._

  
_The little silver teenager watched him leave, tilting his head with a curious smile. He knew his caretaker worked within the Academy to maintain his position, but what kind of work, he was never too sure. Surely, being a nanny wasn’t his job twenty-four/seven. He didn’t mind if Sephiroth was a wee bit curious, did he? The boy tried to speak to him._

  
_“Vincent, is everything alright?”_

  
_No response._

  
_“Hei, umm..” how could he ask his authority… oh yes, “where are you going?”_

  
_He had the right to inquire, this man was taking care of him, his legal guardian till he reaches the age of majority. In that time, he would be free to choose and decide whatever he wanted and no longer required Vincent to sign his documents. Legal obligations aside, it was never said that Vincent could not stay with Sephiroth had he chosen such life._

  
_Becoming 18 only meant that he had autonomy to make choices by himself._

  
_Once again, no response. The elder just continued to grow the distance between them. Sephiroth’s smile shifted to a frown, furrowing his brows and pondering the probabilities of the older male’s reason for not only heading away from him, but ignoring him as well._

  
_“Vince…?”_

  
_Could he even hear him?_

  
_He could understand if the lad was busy preparing for something important. He would try and understand if he was under pressure to respond._

  
_He didn’t want to understand or ever think that his caretaker no longer liked him._

  
_“Vincent…?”_

His eyes shot open and caught on a white ceiling. It had little pinpricks that he was unsure what use it had than protecting spiders as it was more difficult to run a shoe at them with the protruding little spikes. 

  
_Was he dreaming?_

  
It made more sense that it was a mere projection of his mind’s doubts than a reality. When Vincent left his side, it was in a moment the adult knew he wouldn’t know. He wrote his goodbye, claiming that he had to investigate a matter too big to bat an eye to. It was after his eighteenth birthday that he woke to this letter on his nightstand, and Sephiroth was left to figure out what it meant for him. 

  
Taking in his surroundings, he found himself in the infirmary of the Academy. Hewley must’ve taken him here, recalling the lad reaching for him after Doctor Hollander roughly wretched him away from Rhapsodos who…

  
Who was currently being medicated due to a wound by Sephiroth’s blade. 

  
Then it all came back to him. He was in the Headmaster’s room, shaking off tears after he heard the whereabouts of his caretaker. When the Headmaster smirked, informing him that he was no longer necessary in the Academy and was dismissed without consulting Sephiroth, a dependent on him up till a couple of days ago. 

  
He aimed to kill the bastard. 

  
Had Rhapsodos not stand in the way, he would’ve succeeded. 

  
The backside of his palm rested on his forehead, heaving a sigh. He should be furious that the foolish child stopped him from eliminating the one who had caused him nothing but trouble, yet he understood the auburn child’s fear. He was protecting _Sephiroth_ by protecting the freaking Headmaster. By keeping him from offing the sturdy older man, he saved him from a sanction he might not be able to uphold.

  
He would’ve only gotten isolation, death or worse.. a brainwash and recondition by Doctor Hojo. That would mean full custody once again.

  
That didn’t happen yet, given he was still able to process thought, he could remember all those he had met in his life, what he has done for the past 18 years. The only thing he couldn’t do was comprehend the recent events playing around him like a whiplash. Vincent leaving, to Headmaster ShinRa appearing as an accomplice to a murder case, hurting his best friend…

  
He regret waking up in this moment. With all that was returning to him, he was not ready to face reality. 

  
As he lowered his gaze from the ceiling, he found Hewley fiddling with his fingers, sitting in between Sephiroth’s bed and the one next to it. His eyes so unfocused as he kept fidgeting, completely unconscious that he was doing so. When the silver teen lifted his head from the soft pillow, his friend perked up. Sephiroth shifted himself to a sitting position, keeping his eyes on the white blanket that was draped over his lower body. 

  
“Goddess, Seph, are you alright?” his tone was hushed yet urgent, so ridden with fear, it was a dump of ice water down Sephiroth. Poor guy must’ve been so worried about both his friends—Rhapsodos for his condition, and Sephiroth for his sanity. 

  
“Angeal..” once again, his eyes were doing that strange mechanism. His sight was blurring as if water was filling it. His lips were unsteady as he reached out to the usually firm yet gentle friend of his. “I’m fine, you and Genesis?”

  
“I’m fine,” he finally sniffled, and relief filled Sephiroth’s form when the slightly older male took his hand and gave it a little squeeze, holding onto it as if it would provide comfort. “Gen’s.. I don’t even know. Doctor Hollander said that he lost a lot of blood, but transfusions could help in restoring what was lost.”

  
“Transfusions?” he wasn’t dead? Sephiroth felt the need to allow himself to breathe. Oh, thank goodness he was kind of alright.. “are we going to do that?”

  
“We’re barely adults, Seph. I doubt that Doctor Hollander is going to make us.” It was all a speculation, but he believed Hewley’s words only because it was Doctor Hollander, the one he was not all too familiar with. That Doctor usually checked on the two and other students, since Doctor Hojo was his personal doctor, being his father and all..

  
“Fa—Doctor Hojo wouldn’t care about that. He’d take blood wherever he needed it.” He couldn’t take the horror that etched in Hewley’s beautiful blue eyes. For people who had their hearts on their sleeves, it was scratching walls to explain that Doctor Hojo had no sense of care for anything unless it was a scientific discovery. There was no capability in him to love anything that wasn’t his experiments. 

  
Even his own son.

“You know I didn’t mean it…” he uttered a mumble, feeling two feet small. “I didn’t want to hurt Genesis.”

  
“I know..” Hewley gave him a wry smile, “Gen knows that too.”

  
“What does Genesis know..?” The silver teen’s brows furrowed. It wasn’t as though he was upset in the boy for stepping in on this, but what did he know of Vincent and the Headmaster that he correctly pinpointed when Sephiroth was going to attack, “how did he know I was in the Headmaster’s office?”

  
“I don’t really know.. he told me nothing.” At Sephiroth’s inquiry, Hewley raised a brow, smile subsiding into a frown as he turned his head in the opposite direction.

  
Where the boy in question rested, covered in tubes and respiratory devices. If Sephiroth felt small, then Rhapsodos looked even smaller. So pale and almost dead, his hair the only shred of vibrance to him. At least his wound was covered up, if he appeared this weak, it must’ve been worse than what Sephiroth was used to. 

  
How did they know he was still alive? Sephiroth couldn’t sense that fire that flowed within him, only a chill that froze the infirmary to a hopeless desolation. It felt so bleak, so pointless, and yet.. if Doctor Hollander was determined to keep him alive, then the silver teen would trust in his work. 

  
“Genesis mentioned a promise.” Sephiroth mentioned in a matter-of-fact tone, his expression cross as his tone dropped lower, almost gutturally low, “just who did he promise and why?”

  
Surely, he wasn’t loyal to the Headmaster. It was obvious Rhapsodos disliked most of the staff—perhaps all of them that were not Vincent or Veld. He had a good complaint for the rest, Sephiroth and Hewley would find themselves agreeing to. Perhaps he promised Hewley something he does not recall, or he does not want to confide. 

  
As a friend, Sephiroth could understand, but for that to be something that almost cost the fiery boy his life? The silver teen did not appreciate being left in the dark. 

  
“A promise?”

  
With the way his friend shifted his head to face him told Sephiroth he wasn’t the one he made such a vow to. But… why would Genesis promise something to Vincent? Surely, they did not know each other long enough to trust each other with something he couldn’t share with Hewley. 

  
Sephiroth did believe the auburn teen would be able to extract the information he wasn’t aware of, the bits of the jet-black agent’s life that the silver teen had no privy to know. To what extent was what had him wondering, thinking, pondering. How much did Genesis know that he was able to thwart Sephiroth’s plan to end the Headmaster’s pathetic life right there?

  
Sephiroth feared to know. 

  
“I don’t really know of a promise, necessarily.. but I know Genesis had an awful hunch that you would be there.”

  
Sephiroth’s gaze leveled onto his, urging him to continue.

  
“He was running like a madman from room to room. I tried asking him what was up, but only ended up following him. He said it was something urgent he needed to do.” Hewley elaborated, shifting his eyes from the silver teen, to the ceiling, and then to his sleeping friend.

  
“Urgent enough to leave his weapon behind?” if he had his weapon, he could’ve intercepted the blow.. unless he panicked. 

  
“He can’t run fast with Rapier strapped to his back, says it’s still a little too heavy right now.” 

  
Taking another glance at Rhapsodos, he gave a small nod. Truly, Sephiroth forgot he didn’t have the enhanced strength that Hewley had, nor did he have the experience in combat as Sephiroth did. He ran on instinct, relying on his gut to keep him up to date with everything, to battle Sephiroth in the gymnasium. It only made sense for him to leave his weapon behind.

  
He barely made it to the Headmaster’s office with his agility. If he had Rapier, then the Headmaster would’ve been in a heaping pool of his own blood. Rhapsodos had to take the shot for he was too late to knock some sense into him, too late for Sephiroth to lower his blade once poised to kill. 

  
He ran a free hand through silken tresses, grumbling. There was nothing they could’ve done to avoid this. 

  
“I’m sorry about.. all this, Angeal.” And he meant _every_ word of it. There was no time in this life where he wanted to harm his new friends. Those who made his life worth truly living for, rather than merely existing in. He didn’t want to lose them any time sooner. 

  
“Don’t worry, Seph. I know it’s not your fault.” The boy ran a hand to wipe at his face, offering a brighter smile that was wryer in nature. “Gen’s just that careless.. remember the drowning incident?”

  
“Yeah.. he hadn’t been one bit disturbed by the fact that he witnessed the revolved lanterns.” Sephiroth recollected that time a couple of months ago. They were sparring for the first time when Hewley had them know about Rhapsodos’ infamous near-death experience that he rolled his eyes to. Sephiroth found it strange that time how he had no regard for his life then, even now it was the same. 

  
Stepping right in between Masamune called for death through the emergency line, and he dialed without hesitation. 

  
“Any particular reason as to why he seems to discern himself with longevity of life? Surely, he’s not actively trying to die.” 

  
If there was anyone to know about the auburn boy, it was Hewley. His grade about Rhapsodos was higher than all of his rather good grades. With a mental shrug, Sephiroth found that it should be fine to elicit information about him. The two knew more about Sephiroth than he did about them both.   
Having an interest in their life stories boosts their rapport, no?

  
Hewley smiled with a sentiment that was unfitting to the expression. It seemed bitter in nature, “his family were not the nicest in town. In fact, my mother was more of our mother than anyone else.”  
Sephiroth frowned as Hewley heaved a sigh, shifting his gaze to his childhood friend.

  
“I’m not exactly sure what the cause was, that you should ask Genesis himself, but his parents hurt him more than once.”

  
“Did he tell you this?”

  
Hewley shook his head. “At first only my Mum saw the bruising and cuts on his body, but later I even seen him when he slipped up. Y’see, he had layers of clothes to hide it.”

  
“So when you two played in the gardens, you would roll up your sleeves, and..” Sephiroth had to make sure he took in a breath, finding himself breathless as he pressed. His friend nodded.

  
“Yeah. I thought he hurt himself, but he told me wasn’t the kind to do that to his ‘excellent figure’.” While sullen, he couldn’t seem to resist a snort at the end, before frowning again, “his parents never wanted me to be around the house, and he was very uncomfortable when my Mum did a couple of times with me.”

  
“Why is that?” Surely, they were not the same as Doctor Hojo who hadn’t a shred of love for his son… they should be pleased to have a pretty child who everyone had a good word about. Sephiroth was happy to feed his ego as well, tell them of a best friend their son was.

  
“They never wanted a child, yet they had Genesis. Maybe they wanted a girl.. he didn’t misbehave with other people,” Hewley ran a finger over his chin, “he didn’t even bother interacting with them, to be honest. I was his first friend.”

  
“What about your parents? You have a mother, what about a father?” it was truly new to him, this information of his friend’s families. Sephiroth had to remind himself that not all children were born in rooms of white and black, with a Doctor for a father who did not hesitate to use him a guinea pig—using the biology of his to excuse all his actions. 

  
He was a Doctor, he knew what was best for him, and his father, so he had the legal authority to decide matters for him. 

  
“My father, I have no idea who he is, but Mum spoke very well of him. She says he has the heart of a hero, the true making of a warrior.” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips, one that Sephiroth couldn’t quite read. “She’s wrong though.”

  
The silver teen’s eyes widened, speaking no word.

  
“I think she has the making of a hero. She took care of me, and even saved Genesis. She shown him how to be loved.”

  
“Was your father killed..?” he began to hope he wasn’t the one who ended the life of father Hewley. There were many faces he could not think of off the top of his head that he had to fight when in the Wutai battlegrounds. If he had the workings of a warrior, then Sephiroth would’ve had that face stuck to his psyche. 

  
He was good at that, recalling memorable opponents. None of them were a Hewley. 

  
“No idea, he could be alive for all I care. I respect him, grateful that he gave me my blade, but my Mum, she made me. She gave me honour.” The raven teen’s stiff figure began to relax as he spoke with him, Sephiroth found his eyes on the loosely curled fingers of the boy, earlier they were wrought in a knot, pressing into another, and now, it had recoiled, staying onto Sephiroth’s.

  
Sephiroth felt slithers of warmth pass through his cold body at the thought of being able to elevate the stress off his friend. The poor guy must’ve been the most torn about it all. If he was so concerned with hurting his friends during their spars and little games they played, this was ten-fold of it. For the first time, Hewley must’ve felt truly helpless, watching two of his best friends nearly lose themselves.

  
One psychologically, and one physically. Both losses were too painful for a young 18-year-old to sit calmly to. 

  
Even Sephiroth had guilt welling up his system when the warzone was drenched in a flood of blood. And the crimson liquid was far thicker than water, it was eventual that sprays of it would suffocate him. 

  
“You think he’s used to.. this?” he shifted the subject, pointing to Rhapsodos with a nod of his head, and Hewley let out a low growl. 

  
“Unfortunately, yes. I didn’t get to see him every day, y’know. Who knows what happened in those days.” There was no ruling out the possibility that his parents had hurt him to the point of passing out—with how Rhapsodos seemed so damned cynical despite his inexperience in battle, he had an inkling of how it felt to watch life pass him by. Perhaps that was why his demeanor was so open with his two friends, smiling more, allowing them to sit beside him to the point their bodies touched. 

  
Sephiroth thought of a time someone bumped into him, he almost burnt them. There was a time where he had to choose a partner for an assignment, and Rhapsodos immediately clung to Hewley and he, giving his “partner” such a fright, he begged the instructor to change the team arrangement. 

  
Sure, he didn’t have the mental fortitude that Hewley had, but in his own way, Rhapsodos was very caring. He knew what Hewley and Sephiroth couldn’t express, where they fell in a pinch, he would step in and smoothen the corners. Sephiroth was able to think for himself due to his strange friends, because of Rhapsodos giving him the space to. 

  
If they wanted to, he could even say that the boy did save him when he was left to die. While Sephiroth could not understand why he was forsaken in that moment by the Academy, soon he heard from his caretaker Vincent that Doctor Hojo, his father, had dismissed him—claiming that Sephiroth had been performing poorly, not to his expectations. 

  
From Mr. Heidegger, he heard it was a mere accident. They were not informed of his dispatchment until the two students found him. 

  
The two teens sat in silence while the nurses and their superiors stepped in to resume their work. They began refilling their apparatus, with one of them taking measurements for the silver teen. Would he be listed as one who had gone insane? Be admitted to a Court to explain his actions before they kill him for good? The silver teen did not want to have this feeling acknowledged, but he was a little afraid. If he was sent out another time, he wouldn’t be able to see the one he looked up to, and his two friends who saved him from his own darkness. 

  
Regarding the swirling questions in him, Sephiroth had to have a long talk with Rhapsodos. That kid had answers held so close to himself, so tightly secure that even Hewley had no clue. 

  
For now, he had to wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend. Twitter and Tumblr are both @AmareinMortis.


	18. Irreplaceable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present)  
> Super soft chapter. It's just really sweet with the squad. Some SephGen as well.  
> Oh, and a flashback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I note I don’t really write much on the pup. He’s adorable, but rather difficult.  
> \- Also lol, I’m roleplaying once again. It's hilarious. The group is on Discord's Disboard (hint: it's a resort if you'd like to join). It doesn't change anything here, but I thought to mention it. I haven't roleplayed in 2-3 years, so I'm a little excited.  
> \- Happy reading~

\--

It was the day after the two underclassmen were told of the mysterious tales by Kunsel—(who they had no idea if he even had a last name or not, for any name could be a false one at this point), and they were seated in the halls of the auditorium. The deep blue velvety dunes dressed around them in a solemn, calming light and perfect shades of darkness. It neither screamed gloom and doom nor sunshine and rainbows. 

It was just right for work and relaxation. Here they were, the younger two and their club captain, Angeal seated on the cushioned chairs of the front row, the auburn upperclassman and the blond’s possible lover, Genesis sat beside the silver haired male, Sephiroth, on the apron of the stage. The boy was rehearsing a little song to the, one he written down recently. It was not completed in the studio due to time constraints, so he was serenading his audience to the best of his ability while they were doing homework.

His two best friends, Sephiroth and Angeal, were both paying attention to it while completing their assigned work. It wasn’t due until three days, but it didn’t hurt to get a head start on it. Cloud, the youngest of the quintet and most eager one with regards to the auburn teen’s music scene, kept wide eyes in wonder, gawking as if he was earning the blessing of the goddess. His friend, Zack was seated beside him, listening but with a surprisingly calm attitude to it. 

  
Usually it was the other way around for matters, with Cloud with a solemn smile and Zack bouncing all over the place. When it came to the music of his upperclassman, oh nelly. Cloud could not control himself, just wanting to express his admiration to him.

  
“Amazing..!” He praised, almost flying off his seat, which was ironic in nature as he was so very close to Genesis who sat on the auditorium stage, singing mostly to him than anyone else. Zack caught the oldest giving little glances at Sephiroth when his eyes rose, both sharing a warm smile before returning to Cloud ever so often.

  
It was strange.. if he was doing that with all his friends, then the raven-haired male would look the other way. That glance was reserved for the silver teen, kept for him as a sort of reassurance to him. A reassurance for what? That Genesis was still there for him if he was needed? 

  
If this was a thing between them that occurred often, Zack wouldn’t have considered to question it. No.. it was suddenly. After Cloud and Genesis had went on their first date, which… the blond still owes him a rundown of the day. It appeared to have impacted the entire team whether they know it or not. 

  
Sure, club meetings were still the same, the five still hung out together on campus, the upperclassmen trio were taking their enlistment bridge, which was an eventual change. There was something more that had changed in the team. For one, Angeal had been sitting more with Sephiroth, not doting on the lad, mind you, just more attentive of him. Cloud actually went to get advice from Kunsel about Genesis, trusting him due to his plethora of sources.. 

  
Zack found himself helping out Genesis with his “relationship” with Cloud, figuring out his likes and dislikes, all the cheesy things that lovers did. The problem was, while the raven underclassman was an expert at Cloudology, he wasn’t in romance. In fact, he expected to ask _Genesis_ about it, not be the one to answer it.

  
With the auburn teen interacting more with him, he didn’t miss the leering by the silver teen who was very, very close to him. Now, don’t get him wrong, Sephiroth was friends with them, he really appreciated Zack and Cloud, even Kunsel after he was welcomed to his room, yet, there was something in the brilliant green that was frighteningly intense. 

  
It was the wolf in the flock of sheep. Perhaps, a jackal would be more suitable for he almost seemed feral when someone had gotten close to his—their auburn friend. Did he not like the whole beginning of a relationship between his friends? Or was it Cloud that he was suddenly mistrusting for a romantic relationship enters the intimate aspects of a person? 

  
The latter made more sense, the blond was still a child to them, a couple of years behind and the oldest of the three was arguably the most sensitive of the quintet, the most emotional and prone to heartbreak. Too many that gander upon him as a prey, rather than a potential lover, a fanatic out for his clothes and figure than someone who was willing to cherish who he was. 

  
While Cloud was a sweet child, he was also a fanatic of the teen singer. The maturity could be a ploy, a fake act to fool Genesis, and currently, to Sephiroth, it appears as though he has been ensnared. Zack however, found that difficult to comprehend. 

  
How could someone as small and harmless, not to mention inexperienced in actual combat do harm to anyone? 

  
The only reason he would ever consider it was because Genesis, while strong was still deceivingly frail, less skilled than Sephiroth and much less bulky than Angeal, even Zack who exceeded his height and was growing strong as his raven mentor. Cloud was the only one who was still dwarfing over them, but time could only tell how much he could grow. The auburn lad had shoulders that were easy to grow broader than. 

  
Genesis currently rested his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder, who shifted his bangs to the opposite side to keep from getting stuck, tapping away on his laptop as Angeal hypothesize their answer. It was an assignment that Zack had unfamiliar with, going along the lines of procedures of military behaviour. Sephiroth was likely typing down what his mentor and friend read from their books, using it as a reference for their point, proof and explanation. 

  
At least, it sounded like an essay given how Sephiroth had been rapidly keying for the past hour, and Angeal had been flipping through his PHS for online information on their task at hand. For Angeal not to scold Genesis for not concentrating on their shared work meant he had done his part of it, or they were filling in for him since they were courteous enough.

  
Genesis must’ve heard his thoughts out loud, for the pretty upperclassman gave him a little smirk before shuffling closer to Sephiroth’s neck, drawing warmth from him as he sat closer. Zack smiled back, asking nothing he didn’t want to know the answer to.

  
And just like that, Sephiroth’s eyes followed, glancing at the ‘puppy’ almost robotically.

  
“Gen’s got the character models in my dormitory. We’re doing the write-up for it.”

  
Maybe a perk of being the upperclassman is learning telepathy, for Zack sure did not ask a thing and the two knew exactly what he wanted to.

  
“It’s written on your face..” Sephiroth added with a little smile, something Zack realized he had missed for a while. The three had been under a lot of work as of late, it was difficult to see them relaxed, enjoying themselves. Even Angeal had been more cross with his duties, finding a new candidate for Captain of the Fencing and Kendo squad. Genesis must’ve picked one for his squad, or with drama club practice, has become really, really good at hiding his fears. 

  
Once again, the latter made sense. 

  
Then again.. they were only continuing post-graduate studies, weren’t they? It involved more field time outside of their Academics. It was possible that they were going to be sent to a boot camp for the first couple of months before they would officially make it into the military. 

  
They only just became 22… they didn’t have much behind nor ahead of them. It was very possible that they were going to do some years in the service and then resign. Something in his gut told him that one of the three would not be continuing the process. Why? That he couldn’t really say, it was just a gut feeling in the end—he might go the furthest into the military for all he cared. 

  
He glanced down at Cloud who was reading something of history class. He couldn’t help but giggle at how the book had not come with a newer edition, meaning no new information was up for grabs. The four seemed so occupied with their Academy work that it was.. odd. 

  
There was not a word spoken that Zack could determine was outside their school duties. 

  
Genesis had gone quiet on Sephiroth’s shoulder, seemingly napping for his breaths laboured. The silver teen welcomed the action, typing on his laptop without a hint of disturbance. Angeal had been the only one talking, and that was reading notes out loud, with Sephiroth occasionally asking for clarification or adding his own theory to it. 

  
For a moment, they just seemed as though they were not even present. Zack couldn’t find it in him to disturb the sound of silence that ran through the large room that he expected to be occupied with more students studying. Why did it appear as though it was reserved for the five of them and yet no one? Maybe none of them were even there. 

  
It could’ve been a fragment of Zack’s imagination, and his mind couldn’t supply what he would believe his friends would say, thus it was still, chilled and empty.

  
He wanted to shout that he was growing bored of this, wanted to break the chain that was forming around them, limiting their speech to work and nothing more. That all work and no play made Zack a dull boy. 

  
Yet, he couldn’t find it in him to do so. 

  
The demons of demotivation had struck him, somehow. His lips were sewn shut, only to communicate with his eyes that were ignored by the rest. Even Cloud had himself immersed in books as if he wasn’t listening to a song Genesis made, as if his nerves had finally settled, tame due to reasons the raven boy had no idea about. 

  
“Zackary Fair, if you have something to say, spill it.” Genesis’ sleep-heavy voice drawled, one eye blinking open and glaring at him. “You really so eager, it’s stinking up the air.”

  
At this, Sephiroth and Angeal darted their gaze to the underclassman, expectantly. 

  
“Everything okay, Zack?” Angeal started, keeping a hand on the page he was previously reading so the folding book wouldn’t lose their track.

  
“Is there something you wish to address with us?” Sephiroth seconded, eyes off the laptop and peering straight at Zack, sharp as Poseidon’s pronged staff. Zack flinched at the sudden three pairs of eyes on him.  
Add a fourth since Cloud too, glanced with big eyes of intrigue. 

  
“I was just wondering.. we haven’t been able to do anything fun as of late,” when the older two’s brows began to raise, he added, “I mean the five of us together, not just you or Angeal, or Gen with Cloud.”

  
Sephiroth exchanged glances with Angeal, then to Genesis who, with great reluctance, lifted his head off his shoulder and rubbed his eyes, irritated yet docile. Zack waited for them to finish their conversation through their eyes, finding Genesis even more bothered than before, resting his hand to the nape of his neck.

  
“We could arrange a movie night or something,” he glanced at Zack, blue eyes softening, “or videogames, since you and Cloud seem to like that.”

  
“Game night would be really fun.” Cloud perked up with a tiny smile, still so bashful and adorable. Zack sighed happily. “Zack has a Wii we could use, and Angeal’s dorm seems the most spacious..”

  
Angeal gave a nod, “we’re better off in my dorm. I could cook us dinner without freaking out about where any ingredient is.”

  
The raven-haired underclassman couldn’t help but rip a snort. That was his mentor’s biggest complaint when he stepped into Sephiroth’s room. There was almost nothing there, he was ready to flip tables, or raid a grocery store and fill the refrigerator with life. Sephiroth did eat, just he wasn’t all too big on.. anything really.

Genesis' had so much things that he ended up passing along to Angeal as "charity", much to his charging.

Zack figured he and Genesis knew how to make emergency rations, but when they had a whole Angeal by their side, did they really need to cook?

  
“When do you want to do this? Friday?” Cloud rummaged through his bag to find his planner, checking his schedule in case he was booked with anything before they decide to plan something the same day. 

  
“Near the weekend would be suitable.” Sephiroth suggested, small smile still present as he glanced at the calendar in the laptop. Angeal was in agreement, adding that the weekend was the time they were certain to have a couple of hours off. 

  
“Our project just needs another hour of work, so yeah, two days from now will do.”

  
Zack beamed at them, “alright, the weekend it is! I can’t wait till we could just unwind and kick back for once.”

  
He found the upperclassmen glancing at one another in concern, then at Zack for a fleeting second before returning. Even Genesis who was half-asleep now was alert, gnawing his lower lip with his teeth. As if the two were not present, they began to mumble to one another.

  
“Have we really been that harsh these days?” Genesis brought up, though Zack couldn’t catch it on as it was a whisper. He did catch Sephiroth shrugging his shoulders before the two rested their gaze upon Angeal.

“I hope not? Just the weekend you went out with Strife..”

  
“Yeah, but as a group, how long has it been? Actually having fun and stuff, like the pup wants..”

  
Neither had an answer, and Zack could smell the shame emitting from the three. It wasn’t as if they were neglecting Cloud and he, they just had classwork piling up on them, tests to finish and a bridge to enter. For that, they needed to be on their best behaviour and best condition. If they lost their touch, they would be dismissed in a matter of seconds.

  
Zack didn’t blame them for being unable to host any group fun. The responsibility was a collective one, and that meant it included Cloud and his own input. That was why Zack had placed a bold step forward. To be the one who breaks the ice that was threatening to build a fortress. 

  
They needed the stress-relieving puppy, and he was going to give it to them!

  
“We’re almost done here, what would you guys like to do?” Angeal addressed the younger two, smiling wryly. Cloud had a smile similar, turning to Zack to answer for them. 

  
“Cloud’s got a test to study for, so we’re probably going to dash to our dorms for the night. You guys?” No way was Zack ever going to admit that keeping a cheerful tone within the room full of brooding (and sleepy, which was Genesis) people was a task that he had to put effort into.

  
“I’m going to sleep, I’m tired.” Genesis smiled sleepily, looking so ready to return to the realm of sleep on Sephiroth or anything close to him. Out of the three, it was odd to see him at a loss of energy. Still a presence so warm, his spirits must’ve been drained with the extra club work. 

  
Then again.. didn’t he join Kunsel’s chess team? That had to be why. 

  
“I have to contact the Student Council to see if I have any tasks remaining there.” Sephiroth’s gaze tore to the ceiling, heaving a sigh as he clicked what Zack believed was the save button. 

  
It truly was a slow day for all of them, and it showed. 

  
Angeal’s reaction was delayed throughout their exchange, Sephiroth growing agitated at the tasks he had in hand was another giveaway. Genesis has yet to quote LOVELESS through the entire day was alarming, and Cloud.. Cloud reading one sentence over and over again with a deeply furrowed brow was another to set it off. Zack himself was a warning flag of it, growing slightly restless rather than eager as he usually was. 

  
In short, they were all going a little out of character, that was something worth raising a nervous brow over. 

\--

Sephiroth should’ve realized his friends could be quite the liars. 

  
When the auburn teen moped that he was ready to spend the day in slumber, exhausted he was, the silver-haired male should’ve known that he would not grant himself that. That he would hole himself in the library, surround himself with screens and texts splayed at his feet and cushions he sat upon, glaring so hard he could burn the leaflets if focused enough.

  
“It's late, what are you doing here, Genesis?”

  
That whip of the boy’s head completely bewildered and caught off guard had the younger boy slip into a frown. He was more attentive than this, quick to catch presences, movements, intakes of breath, the beats of their hearts as Angeal and Sephiroth. To not notice the silver-teen’s imposing aura at all was enough to question.

  
“Seph.. when did you pop by?” the lad chose his words carefully, shifting on the squishable bean bag he rested on. “Did the Student Council send you here?”

  
Sephiroth shook his head, eyeing the open books that were draped over another to keep from closing, the screens that were on and displaying texts that were so minuscule, he could barely read in his position. Was Genesis researching something? Surely, it hadn’t to do with their projects. This subject was about…

  
“No, I thought of renting out a book on _Nietzsche_.” The topic should’ve warranted a suspicion in the characteristics of his friends, of himself. It was on ‘artificial birth’, and yet, all Sephiroth could manage was wonder if Genesis wanted children. A completely off assumption from the truth that was beside Sephiroth, but he didn’t bother to catch on. 

  
“Oh, I see.”

  
If Genesis was wary, gawking at him with wide cerulean eyes as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have, that should answer enough. The boy didn’t want him to know, had intended for this material to be for his eyes only. Or he was merely surprised due to his senses unfocused. It was very much possible he was trying to wake himself up by focusing on Sephiroth as if the silver-haired man was an officer ready to punish him. 

  
“Do you need with what… you are doing?”

  
Rather than it being about artificial birth by surgical changes, it appeared to be material on lifeforms made in a laboratory. Was he reading about how Sephiroth was created? Surely not.. he could just ask and Sephiroth would answer. 

  
“No, I’m good. Just…” Genesis cut himself off by dismissing him with a wave of his hand. If the silver-teen was one of impatience, he would’ve seethed at the older teen’s insistence on privacy on a matter that pertained to him, his origination and his life. Sephiroth would’ve been pointing Masamune at him, heart twisting painfully at the idea that Genesis was violating his right to keep information on himself a secret. 

  
He didn’t have the right to read up on Sephiroth.

  
But..

  
Sephiroth was taught patience by Vincent, taught restraint by Angeal who often told him to assess the situation with an open mind before dropping the blade. He even learnt from Genesis that the boy was not interested in how his friends were made or born, he was going to be friends with them because they were. 

  
It was a snap of a finger realization that occurred to him. Genesis was not reading, researching, trying to figure out the roots of Sephiroth, he was reading on his own. Genesis had it confided to them with a broken heart and streaming tears that he was not a Rhapsodos, that he wasn’t anything of significance. 

  
Of course, Genesis wouldn’t peek into places he was not permitted to. 

  
Sephiroth wouldn’t be able to call him a friend of the auburn boy if he truly believed in that mistake. If there was anyone who knew the true sides of the older boy, it was he and Angeal. Strife and Fair to an extent, Kunsel to a lower, no one got to their level of understanding. 

  
He sent an apology through his eyes, watching the cerulean eyed boy gaze at him before falling into a small smile. 

  
“You can sit here, you know what I’m looking at.”

  
“I’ll give you the privacy you deserve.” The silver teen returned the smile, “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

  
“Thanks,” the little grin grew enough to bare his teeth as he lowered his eyes to the screen on his lap, eyelashes effectively concealing what those azure pools expressed, “this is one of the study rooms, so I hoped no one would find me.”

  
“But you know.. I always find you.” Pale cheeks dusted with a little rose as his own smile grew. It may have been a rather intimate implication, he meant it. He wanted to be the one to find his friends and embrace them the way they had for him, the way they could murmur kind words to him when he needed it most, he wished to do the same. 

  
Besides, they really didn’t hide from him to search for them. 

  
“As always..” when Genesis’ eyes met his, the pools of the sky blue were full of a sentiment that Sephiroth could not put into a coherent description. It was something only his heart could interpret and understand. It was a look for him, so full, so sweet, so unlike the Genesis Rhapsodos that confidently strut along the halls, high grades and prestige dressing him. He was that small fourteen-year-old boy who breathed life into Sephiroth.

  
If Strife met such a gaze every time he was in contact with Genesis, then he was one lucky lad. 

  
“Hei. If I get lost, Seph.. could I leave it to you to find me again?”

  
As the blond being the auburn boy’s rook filled his mind, overtaking the significance of what he had with his friend, it had him widening his eyes at his request. If he had spoken those words with a sneer or with a voice that insinuated anger, he would’ve laughed it off. 

  
Genesis used that little voice that was so uncertain, that one that truly was _Genesis_. The little boy littered with scars, with the revolving lanterns, the scar on his right shoulder that was still a terrible sight to witness. The Genesis that Sephiroth truly found was his, and his only. Angeal had another side of him, the one where he was the headstrong boy who had to stand up and guide everyone, supply them with information to give them the reins of their lives. 

  
He wasn’t asking to be swept off his feet, to be saved by a Prince Charming, to have a handsome Prince kiss the Princess awake. He was longing for the boy who had not truly existed to remind one who lived a fake life to live. And Sephiroth knew that better than anyone else in this moment, how it was to live a lie. 

  
To originate an un-origin. 

  
“Of course. Let me be the one who finds you.” It was without a need for thought that he ran an ebony gloved hand through the soft fronts of Genesis’ hair, shifting the strands to be able to gaze fully into those eyes, to have no distraction from the boy who was utterly beautiful, “I’ll remind you that you live, that you exist for us and yourself.”

  
“For myself…?”

  
“Yes,” his hand shifted to his cheek, to the dip of his chin that so perfect in his hands, “for you are a free man, Genesis. You aren’t tied to any family tree; you are you and you alone.”

  
Genesis’ lips parted, taking in a breath, unable to shift his gaze anywhere else. Not that he wanted to, nor would Sephiroth allow such. The apparatus in the room, the halls and narrow spaces were no longer of importance, nothing that needed his eyes to linger upon as he was. 

  
The truth. 

  
Sephiroth’s smile deepened, brushing through radiant strands so well-cared for, maintained with the finesse that he had with his own hair, pale and shining under the moon’s light. There was never a moment where Sephiroth did not think he was fortunate he has such beautiful friends. 

  
Angeal, the lonely boy who was a self-made man, ascending as the team’s parent for he learnt the most skills in raising a family from a mother so warm, from his own heart so tender and protected by his best friend. He would very possibly not have met that lovely man had he not been Genesis’ friend. 

  
The teen took in a breath, lowering his eyes with a little frown. It was then, flashes of images flown through Sephiroth’s mind. 

  
_When the two soldiers fell to the ground, Sephiroth knelt to their level, knocking the bothersome helmet off one of their heads. It revealed a familiar face, one far too close for his liking._

  
_“Genesis,” he mumbled to himself, in mild rage rather than in shock, followed by a young boy’s shout._  
_“The missing SOLDIER First-Class!”_

  
_Seething to himself, he removed the other to be shown a face identical._

  
_“The same face!”_

  
_“Genesis clones..” no matter how much his blood was pumping in a fury, wishing to escape and utterly dismantle the boy’s face, Sephiroth kept himself check with a low mutter, too willing to shut his eyes and act as if it does not exist._

  
_“Clones!? Human clones?!” silently thanking Zack for allowing him to take a glance away from this sight that had him grimacing in wrath whom he wasn’t sure who he could direct it to, shifted to the lack of a partner by the boy’s side. Why wasn’t Angeal with him when he was dispatched a moment ago?_

  
_“Where is Angeal?” who could he be pointing his blade to? Genesis for allowing himself to be used in such a stupid, pathetic manner, Angeal for deciding that his pride and honour did not exist any longer despite droning on and on about it, or the one who used, and will use their cells for this.. this atrocity._

  
_Had it been his cells Hojo wanted to use, Sephiroth would’ve driven his blade into every Mako tank possible._

  
_“He was supposed to be fighting here but…” the young boy turned away, hands on his hips as he stared into the empty space where his mentor and companion should’ve been. Sephiroth couldn’t hold back that crossed sigh as he pondered if he was the only fool who believed in friendship, in their bond._

  
_“So, he went with him as well.” Taking one last glance at the two dead bodies who shared faces with his best friend, he scowled. He hadn’t in him to cater to the non-step funnel of questions that were to spurt from a confused young SOLDIER. He didn’t have the answers he was looking for, and he didn’t want to indulge in it._

  
_That was asking to pour salt onto his wounds that surfaced, bleeding through the seams of his coat._

  
_“Just now what did you mean!?”_

  
_Resisting another sigh, the older male shut his eyes rising to his feet to avoid the burning stare of the youthful boy who was keeping himself from feeling the betrayal Sephiroth implied. The child was too optimistic, too believing.. it hurt._

  
_For Sephiroth wanted such belief._

  
_“Angeal has also betrayed us, that’s what it means.”_

“Seph?” Genesis’ voice pulled him out of the strange flicker that had been one of the few reoccurring moments. Among the scenes his foggy mind projected unto him, this was new. Never had he seen peculiarities such as cloning of humans. He had been an unfortunate witness to abominations that his father has mangled around with his experiments to refine the JENOVA drug to administer into students. 

  
Somehow, his friends had the ability to guide him out of these haunting visions that he couldn’t figure out. These apparitions that felt so real, as if they were truly in that position, speaking those words they had no true understanding about, the feelings that were so strong, it was if they were feeling it in that moment. If it was a lucid dream, then they were frightening. He had control, and yet, he had not a bit. 

  
Everything passed by him, and all he could do was react in accordance with what the “dream” dictated him to. That loss of control, he couldn’t stand. 

  
“Nothing could ever replicate you.” He made sure he stared dead-eye at Genesis as he proclaimed, strengthening his stance and pouring all conviction he could in his voice. With the way the older boy blinked, completely immersed to respond, he knew it was firm. 

  
“As in replace me? With how ShinRa conducts their business, you think they’ve tried that?” it was always something Sephiroth appreciated. Genesis did not need much context to understand why people made outbursts, whether he found those visions or was completely out of it. He read between the lines and connected the dots to whatever they were facing without being spoon-fed much of it. “How do we know we’re not the replicated ones?”

  
Sephiroth’s lips pursed into a tight line. Was that why he was reading these books? To find if the clones were laying around somewhere in the laboratories have? “Do you know anything about that?”

  
If they had tried to kill the real Genesis and replaced him with a fake one to hang out with, he wouldn’t forgive ShinRa, even if his friend was the unreal boy the whole time. His hand slipped out of auburn bangs when the older teen shook his head, eyes on one of the pages of the book that had a lot of scribbles imprinted upon it with a bold black pen.

  
“I’m trying to figure out what they could’ve done with a cell-born.” It took a moment of actually reading the notes to realize that Genesis was the one who crossed out half the text onto it. “If they took samples from us, the chances are that they would create newer forms of us when we disappoint them.”

  
“Doctor Hojo has my cells, that’s for sure.” He was practically seething at the mere mention of his father. Doctor Hojo was one of the few he was rather happy not to visit every day of his life. What he only learnt from him were scars and to be a lost puppet, to be a mechanism that was to be used and used until he was no longer useful. That stint in Wutai was supposed to be his deathbed, arranged by the very man. 

  
That, he was only able to find out due to a certain Mr. Tuesti who accidentally spoke too loud in the meeting room while Sephiroth was once wandering the halls with Angeal and Genesis, waiting for Vincent to appear to tell them the result of said conference. 

  
Sephiroth was listed as a disobedient, obsolete creature that needed to be disposed of because the warriors of the opposition had found loopholes around his swordplay, his skills and were ready to counter it. Hell, Doctor Hojo must’ve been furious to know that his son was about to accept their offer of negotiation if he was trained under their military. 

  
The silver teen found it an effective strategy to end the foolish power struggle with ShinRa by solidifying his position as a soldier of Wutai—discovering that to be the bargaining tool they wished for. 

  
The students of ShinRa Academy were never informed that Sephiroth was in a near death state by the actions of the ShinRa military volunteers, rather than the gruesome battle of the Wutain people. Sephiroth could not really tell either, left to wonder if they were told he was a traitor of sorts, or if it was an accident. 

  
Mr. Heidegger not knowing this was another reason. That man despised the kind Mr. Tuesti with a passion and in that meeting with the ShinRa staff, he expressed livid concern over the fact that they had thrown their best soldier under the bus in such a manner. 

  
When his green eyes tore off the pages on the floor, he barely had time to register that his very mumble of Doctor Hojo possessing pieces of him had thrown Genesis over the edge. With the exhaustion that his body was under, it had a weaker chance to reel it back in and show a good face. The boy’s lip tore with how hard he was biting into it, fingers curling into his palms, unable to cease the shaking, rattled by the anger that broke the leash and rose. 

  
He refused to meet Sephiroth’s eyes as he bent forward, bangs hiding the glower radiating from bright blue eyes. 

  
“I’m going to kill that bloody wanker…” 

  
Judging by the shift in the atmosphere, the build of warmth from the older boy, Sephiroth set his hands on the boy's slender shoulders and kept him seated, knowing fully well that he was just about ready to stand up and pounce at the mad scientist. The silver teen couldn’t let him do that, couldn’t allow him to risk his life in this way, recklessly and as Angeal would put it, dishonourably. 

  
The boy’s eyes met his under auburn strands. 

  
“Don’t stop me, Seph.” He warned, wiping his chin of the little line of scarlet forming, “you can’t possibly let that bastard live.”

  
“I agree,” he may have interrupted him or not, may have pushed any further argument down the water with his affirmation. Genesis deserved to know that he wasn’t trying, in any which way, to defend Doctor Hojo, but Genesis. “Now is not the time nor way for it. It has to be arranged without conspicuous indicators.”

  
Genesis’ eyes softened as he found nothing but forcefully tamed rage in Sephiroth’s naturally neutral eyes. Even he hadn’t had the patience in the world for Doctor Hojo, he too wanted him dead for all the trouble he has caused. It was taking all that he didn’t have to restrain himself. 

  
Sephiroth met the eyes of comprehension. Genesis was able to recognize that he and Angeal were the sole reasons why he hadn’t offed the Doctor the moment he had his blade returned to him. There was too much trouble if they had made attempts in this moment—Sephiroth already warranted suspicion for trying a fast one on the Headmaster when Vincent was discharged. 

  
They were practically waiting for Angeal and Genesis to follow.

  
“Okay, but you have to let me know when.” Sephiroth didn’t expect the flames to calm as fast as it did, but he wasn’t disappointed. He was glad his friend still had the ability to simmer it down when it was absolutely necessary, without a fit or fuss. 

  
“Will do. I’ll even let you burn him.”

  
And if Sephiroth was a fool of a man, he wouldn’t have known why Genesis smiled as fondly as he did. As if he had won the biggest, rarest collection of LOVELESS. 

But Sephiroth knew his friend, and giving him permission to set his father on fire was a long dream of his. He remembered the boy once confessing such during their early days, after meeting Vincent and the doctor for the first time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for dropping by, hope you have a lovely weekend~ Twitter and Tumblr are both AmareinMortis.


	19. Enlistment training begins!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present)
> 
> Battles! They are hard to write, but this was exciting.   
> AGS, nuff said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- lol, I remember writing this for Strifesodos because the content was adorable of them, and now it’s becoming a behemoth without much romance. It’s kind of a reminder that someone like me shouldn’t do something they’re not good with.   
> \- I know I said no degradation in this story. It still won't, but it allows me to play around the idea, no?

\--

“Congratulations on your embark on this perilous journey. You are the warriors of tomorrow, the most honourable, brave and powerful forces of Midgar. When you succeed, you will be entered in as soldiers for the government, the beacon of hope for our people. With pride on your soul, conviction in your hearts, strength in your arms, intellect in your mind.. each and every one you will become heroes!”

  
It was almost an automated message written by a horrible script writer or someone who was commissioned to write down a cheesy speech to motivate the students who were preparing their enlistment. Almost, the key word in this for the one who voiced these words, gave life to it that the students could not toss aside the other ear as they did with other lecturers. 

  
Reeve Tuesti spoke through his heart, accentuating this conviction he spoke of. He was a true believer of these phrases, spilling his innermost to the children now grown into respectable adults, possessing arms of various sizes and type, strange silver helmets upon their heads and a change in uniform. 

  
No longer did they have the blazers and dress shirts, now it was a soft cotton turtle-neck that were meant to be resistant to rips and magic, baggy cotton pants of the same material, each a deep purple shade. Pauldrons of their choice stuck onto their shoulders, with black leather gloves on their hands, some extending up to their elbows, and various belts and harnesses to hold their gear. Angeal wore his belts in a manner most recruits had, while Sephiroth and Genesis tied it criss-cross on their chest.

  
Angeal stood out as one of the tallest in the crowd of volunteers, Sephiroth only for his silver hair that was currently tied into a long, high ponytail. To Genesis’ complete and utter disappointment, he dwarfed over many students with the black combat boots he was currently dressed in, as opposed to the long heels he was accustomed to. The only indicator for him was the beautiful, long crimson blade on his back. 

  
“You are our pride and soul, our blood, tears and sweat. With the blades you strapped onto your backs, you will fight, you will endure, and many will see death in the eye. If you do not make it, there is no shame, for your efforts are recognized and valued. We will have other departments open for you to enter. You will not be forgotten.”

  
What had Angeal almost gasp was how it was Sephiroth who scoffed at that, rather than Genesis. In fact, Genesis was rather quiet, standing next to Sephiroth with the helmet covering most of his face, unable to shed away auburn bangs and the long silver earring that was ignored by the higher ups.   
Perhaps this time, a great sermon was paid its due attention. Mr. Tuesti should’ve been the

spokesperson for the previous few lectures on the subject matter of ‘servitude to ShinRa’. It was quite obvious that he was the only true believer that the students who enrolled into the Academy and now enlisted were doing the right thing. They were going to become protectors of the public, the ones who assist the helpless and the needy. 

  
As that one song Genesis was listening to, they were to become _the saviours of the broken, the beaten and the damned_. They were prepared for the worst, to experience loss, pain and trials that would change them from the cute, snot nosed greenhorns to those who had nothing but power in their stance. 

“ _Dead inside_.” Genesis muttered, and Angeal almost decked him on the head for that. Sephiroth had a well-hidden snicker that followed such sentiment. 

  
As Mr. Tuesti continued on, Angeal had the same need to absorb every word like a sponge as he did when he was firstly welcomed to ShinRa Academy. With pure love and great devotion, he will believe. He will adhere their words if Sephiroth and Genesis couldn’t bother with it. He was pretty sure his friend only heard ‘hero’, and then let his mind clock in for the labour job of sarcasm and jest. 

  
Angeal wouldn’t have minded, knowing Genesis, but he did since that boy had Sephiroth join in on it. Both of them were snickering and snorting, claiming the beautiful words of encouragement were too pretentious, something adults do only to deceive the younger. 

  
The raven-haired boy huffed at their narrow-minded assumptions. They didn’t know these were the very things were what they wanted to hear most. Since they didn’t come with it, they were picking at it. 

  
“Hewley, Rhapsodos and Crescent, please step forward.” When their names were called, Angeal had to put more force than necessary to avoid a flinch as he took a step forward. Genesis and Sephiroth complied robotically, saluting to Mr. Tuesti and the now approaching Mr. Heidegger who trudged in, all dolled up in uniform that really belonged to a Sergeant Major from a movie or something. Badges and chains adorned his torso, looped over his green marsh jacket, showing off his status as their clear superior. 

  
Now _this_ , Angeal resisted rolling his eyes to. 

  
“You three are the few we have higher expectations for.” Mr. Tuesti commented, nothing akin to an insult or with a hint of disdain. In fact, his eyes were a little too soft to be one of the militias, his stance was gentle upon closer view, almost like a big brother figure rather than a Drill Sergeant that Mr. Heidegger posed to be. The raven-haired boy began to wonder if it was a mistake that Mr. Tuesti was put in charge of this process, he looked ready to break down and cry any minute now. “We want you three to show a perfect demonstration of what you will face.”

  
Genesis and Sephiroth did not share the viewpoint Angeal did, glancing listlessly at the older man in front of them. While their eyes were hidden by the helmets, he could sense it in their stance that they were not amused. Heat was building up around Genesis and Sephiroth’s posture was a little too lax for his own good. 

  
That was a surprise. 

  
Sephiroth usually had the straightest of backs, hands to his sides and clenched in deep concentration. Here, he made Angeal that kind. The raven teen was usually more excited than serious, eager to get through their training to improve himself, to become better. Genesis scoffed, often feeling underestimated by their child’s play. 

  
“Alright,” Sephiroth murmured, speaking on behalf of Genesis who was ready to snide, “how do we make this demonstration, Sir?”

  
Mr. Tuesti faced the silver teen, “with the help of our newly enhanced VR system. As we are in a separate training room from the students, we will be transported to a terrain of our choice and you three will face an array of rogue soldiers.”

  
The auburn boy lifted his helmet and had it tossed half-hazardly. The metal of the piece clacked loudly onto the ground and the boy glared up at their current superior.

  
“That’s it? Just rogue soldiers?”

  
“I’m sure you don’t want to die, Rhapsodos.” The soft older male knelt the ground, lifting the helmet as his eyes went to the boy. Angeal wondered why his friend had been so agitated, as if he was robbed of something very important by this gentleman. He hoped it was just his imagination. “We could arrange the three of you to fight Bahamut.”

  
“I’d prefer that.” Sephiroth rebutted, much to the widening of deep blue eyes. “You have stated that you have great expectations in us, then allow us to show _why_. It will increase the morale of the recruits to work hard.”

  
At this, even Angeal couldn’t argue back. He had a compelling point. It was an excellent tactic to boost incentive to work as hard as one can. Sephiroth was not overestimating their capabilities. 

  
“As expected of you, Sephiroth. Reeve, I’m going to allow the proposal.” Mr. Heidegger sneered at them, almost ready to kill them for reasons Angeal couldn’t figure why. Mr. Tuesti in direct contrast, had paled to the point he was ghostly. He was still trying to protect them…

  
“But Mr. Heidegger—”

  
The cruel superior’s order barked over his. “Allow it! Greenhorns, stand back and observe! Technicians, to Modeoheim.”

  
When they removed their helmets, Sephiroth offered Angeal a smile when their eyes met, one that assured them nothing but victory. Genesis stared into the distance, waiting for the surroundings to change. 

  
“ _The three friends have now gathered._ ” He began to quote aloud, turning his face in direction away from the recruits and their superiors and to the platform where the technicians stood. The turquoise lighted room began to break into millions of pixels, flashing before their eyes as it shifted form. From bright blues and greens, it was turning a dull red, with pipes in a cross-stitched net pattern on the ground, long walls that reached a great height, not even a long tree could reach. Where Genesis stared as he quoted LOVELESS was a ledge, ahead was nothing but an ebony darkness. “ _One becomes the prisoner, one will take flight. The last remaining friend becomes the hero.”_

  
As he finished the passage, the training room of pale dancing lights had completely transformed. Angeal couldn’t help but gaze in amazement as everyone now stood in this Modoheim place, but where? He wasn’t sure.. it was like a laboratory or something. He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

  
Genesis' gaze flickered to the two beside him, “If we were to re-enact it, who would play the role of the hero? Would it be you, Sephiroth? How about Angeal?”

  
“Gee, I wonder.” Sephiroth responded with a smile to grew thin with a dark glint, yet very affectionate to his friend.

Above their heads emerged a large dragon whose wings expanded so far, they could see nothing of the ledge and what surrounded it. Angeal couldn't help but gasp. Never had they faced beasts before, nor were they permitted to, and here… this was their first test?

  
Still… Sephiroth and Genesis stared on as if it wasn’t a huge threat capable of causing mayhem so fearsome right in front of them. It would surely be the end. 

  
Bringing the companion blade to the _Buster Sword_ to his face, Angeal breathed a prayer. This could very well be a dangerous battle. If he wounds up dead, he wouldn’t be able to write more letters to his Mum back in Banora. He couldn’t afford that to happen. 

  
Genesis brandished _Rapier_ as Sephiroth lifted _Masamune_ boldly, pointing it to the dragon that flew over them. They had to prepare themselves for the feral cry that the creature’s first instinct was to do upon awakening, blowing gales their way with the flap of its large wings. Angeal let his knees buck slightly, attaining balance to avoid the impact of the winds that flew all inky strands back, that threatened to disarm him of his little sword. Sephiroth’s hair flew in all directions, flowing far before settling down in a soft, uniform manner, and Genesis brought a hand up his face to keep the debris from flying into his eyes. 

  
A smirk splayed over Sephiroth’s soft features as a shadow loomed the upper-half of his face, eyes bright and glinting under the darkness. His hand not wielding Masamune rose, two fingers pointed. It was a cue to begin a strike as soon as he pointed it forward, and Genesis resisted a snicker. 

  
“What’s your orders, dear Sephy?”

  
“Why don’t we strip it of its majestic wings?” how long had it been since Sephiroth been in a battle close to a serious one? Something that was not sparring with the two beside him.. Angeal feared that the answer was not often, the reason for the excitement for shedding blood and hailing it into the training room. 

  
When was it that Genesis trusted the silver teen’s judgment? Sure, it was his forte, but to think they could easily beat this beast would be absolute belief in the demon in the battlefield, and being able to keep up with him than being his pair of burdens. The raven male wasn’t sure if he had it yet, that confidence that they will keep up to his pace. 

  
“Perhaps a start with the tail.”

  
The large dragon’s tail aimed for Sephiroth, crashing onto the netted ground with such a weight, the floor tore and caved in by the impact. The three made a deft jump away from such attack, the silver teen completely at home with flipping back and throwing Masamune in a perfect angle, it pierced the tail and nailed it into the ground. To add insult to injury, as soon as Sephiroth’s booted feet touched the ground, he raced and rose high into the air, landing his feet on the hilt of his blade and pressed it deeper into the beast’s tail and the floor that was falling under him. 

  
“Whoa..” The silver haired male snickered at the recruits' easy astonishment.

  
The roars of the beast along with the ground caused tremours to shake up the recruits present, with more blows of harsh gales their way. The sounds were deafening, the atmosphere so intense it was blinding the students had they removed their helmets. Yet, a couple of them fell on impact, while the rest tried their best to hold onto one another to stay upright. The superiors raised a small brow but struggled not. 

  
In the moment Sephiroth had pierced the tail of the large brown dragon, Genesis generated enough flames into his hand and hurled a flurry of fireballs at the dragon, throwing two rounds of eight balls of pure fire that exploded as soon as it met the scales of the dragon. Angeal braced his jump by landing his boots on the wall of the building before darting like an arrow at the head of the large beast, away from the Firaga that Genesis cast upon it. 

  
For three students who were trying to make the cut of the enlistment, they were faring well without any instruction. 

  
Angeal thrust his blade upon the upper body of the dragon, using that as a balance to jump on the back of the dragon who was screaming, releasing flames of its own through its parted lips, teeth sharper than a wild lion’s—once again, at Sephiroth. Genesis landed on his feet, knee brushing the piped floor as Sephiroth casted a Wall spell to deflect the flame his way, eyes at his companion.

  
“The creature wouldn’t be able to move far with its tail pinned. Get the wings with Hewley.” He vaguely commanded, and Genesis smirked, running atop of the tail that began to lift slightly as the dragon flapped its wing to wriggle Sephiroth and Angeal off. 

  
Taking that as a note, Genesis ran a hand around Rapier and to the recruit’s bewilderment, it began to glow as the runes upon it activated, illuminating the crimson blade. He twirled the blade into both hands as he rose it skyward, narrowly getting past the vicious jaws of the dragon struggling to shank his head off. Angeal was holding onto the hilt of his blade, the only reason why he hadn’t fallen. Aiming for a hard slash, his body followed the blade’s arch until he was no longer in reach. Blood sprayed over him as the upper-half of the dragon began to bleed, thrashing and increasing the gusts of strong currents, effectively dropping Angeal off the back and Genesis away from the front. 

  
Sephiroth clicked his tongue as he was compelled to remove his blade from the large tail, the dragon’s strength erratically cracking in all places, and the winds also affecting the silver teen. They still had the advantage of three against one mindless, savage creature. All was in their favour.

  
They only wished to show off a little. 

  
Genesis flew back a couple of meters, catching himself before he could hit the ground, his boots skidding on the floor’s rugged pavement.

  
“Angeal!” He called out as soon as his eyes caught the raven male hitting the opposing wall, thankfully not in the black moss where they weren’t sure where he’d fall and how low. With how the walls cracked and was caving in when Angeal’s body slammed into it guaranteed a harsh hit. 

  
“He’s fine, Genesis.” Sephiroth chided, knowing too well that the auburn boy, while violent and rather careless in spars, had a spike of nerves when he couldn’t guarantee the safety of his friend. If it was by his own hand, at least he was aware of the power into his strikes. An opponent strong as this could’ve broken bones. “Angeal effectively hit a pressure point right above its spine, it will be out of control for a moment.”

  
Genesis’ gaze didn't tear away from Angeal until he was back on his feet, steadying himself with a scowl. In his reverie of distraction, the dragon blasted a second round of fireballs larger than the multitude of the auburn boy'. Sephiroth was about to prepare another Wall to guard his friends, coming to a halt only when Genesis rolled with a fusion spell of ice and lightning. Clutching hard onto Rapier with one hand, he outstretched his arm and aimed.

  
The crystals of frozen water shot out of his hand, with swirls of lightning swaying in a circular motion as if protecting the spheres of ice. The purity of the ice neutralized the massive fire, and the untamed electricity produced loud shocks and bolted straight at the raging beast. The crackling thunder sent pins and needles, prickling over each appendage uncomfortably and locking it in place. 

  
Sephiroth raised his brows, glancing at the boy for a second, pondering when he had a spell like that ready in his arsenal. By the way the auburn male’s minor episode of panic had completely vanished, replaced with a silent wonder had Sephiroth deduce it was a spell conjured out of emotional stimuli. He actually didn’t think of the spell, nor did he have the specific combination in mind. It was instinct.

  
It worked in their favour, that was at least, good. A glare at the superior behind had him considering the options with apprehension. Surely, they have taken note of that instability for a moment. If he lost control another time, there was no telling where and what his target would be, and what kind of riot it would cause. 

  
Nothing showed any confirmation nor denial of Genesis’ outburst. 

It did enough of the dilly-dallying he wanted before they could end it in one swift dual strike. He ran a hand on Genesis’ back, patting once to beckon him to stand down, then shifted his attention to his friend across the room.

  
“Angeal, with me! Let’s end this!” he shouted due to the distance, readying his blade that gleamed with the light’s grace. Angeal, on his feet and catching Sephiroth’s call gave a nod with a smile. It was all paying off, their training, spars, getting to know one another. 

  
All for these small moments that would cost their lives if a slip-up were to happen. 

  
Both of them dashed as rapid as the high tide upon the desert sand. Genesis gaped, watching his two friends sprint like true assassins on a hunt, predators locked onto their prey and ready to dive in and completely obliterate it. Both brilliant blades swayed together as the two approached, each on either side in such a manner that was to both protect the other from the projectiles coming their way, and to cripple the dragon from the side they missed. 

  
Genesis began to feel pity for the dragon that was going to eat Masamune and the Buster Sword (Junior still on its back) at once. He supposed that was what it got for crossing his friends. 

  
His eyes observed how the dragon was paralyzed by the lightning bolts that he passed through it, enabling the two to dismember it the best they can. The wings were the first to go with their flurry of attacks, then the limbs before the two raised their blades and charged, both of them surged in a speed immeasurable, practically bisecting the beast. The Buster Sword made a particularly deep slice that matched the Masamune’s perfect cut, both imposing an elegance that amazed Genesis. 

  
It was then the corners of his lips curved into a smile, breath completely snatched as he sighed.

Catching the stomps reaching closer and closer to him and his comrades, he rubbed his hands with a huff, ready for another Firaga to fling at the incoming forces.

  
“Hey Seph, Ang’, we’ve got company..~” 

  
The rogues that Mr. Tuesti mentioned were marching, stepping out of the elevator with guns blazed, quite literally. In their arms were long crimson blades that had an addition of a gun underneath. They were equipped with weapons to counter the projectiles that they were aware Genesis had a fondness for throwing, weren’t they?

  
The two swordsmen shared a smirk as they turned, hot on their heels and ready to eliminate all their opponents. Angeal was coming into terms as to why the two reasoned that a fight against little soldiers wouldn’t impose as a true challenge. They all had such strong comprehension of their strongest suits; it was not difficult to apply it. 

  
The soldiers began to fire their bullets at Genesis who was the closest in their line of vision. The auburn boy deflected the bullets with a series of twirling his blade in a circular motion, it spun and spun like a wheel as he brought a hand to his lips, releasing a yawn from his parted lips. The bullets were barely reaching him, so small and ineffective they were. Even Sephiroth with a revolver would be more of a fright than these fancy blades. 

  
“How about I show you how to really shoot?”

  
Growing tired of using Rapier in its charged form in such a way, he readied flames into his left hand, flinging yet another fire spell as if it was second nature. He wasn’t even focused on them at this moment, eyes upon his friends who soared in the air like pouncing cheetahs, raining down a cyclone of slashes upon the unfortunate soldiers. 

  
It was starting to get rather boring, this whole demonstration thing. 

  
As if they heard his growing disdain, Masamune landed near his feet and landed with a graceful step was Sephiroth. Angeal following after, rolling to his feet with a smile. 

  
“Genesis, slacking there, aren’t you?” Sephiroth taunted, arming himself with the impressive blade.

  
“If you’re feeling left out, why not weave your way in?” Angeal suggested, turning his face to the rogue soldiers who held their fire. 

  
Genesis rolled his eyes with a sneer, not wanting to show them his appreciation for trying to include him unnecessarily. “And who’s been covering your behinds all this time?”

  
“Obviously not you.” Sephiroth retorted as the three charged at the numerous soldiers that were emerging from the elevator. 

Within a minute of hacking and slashing their way, perhaps causing a forest fire within the place, their surrounding began to distort, breaking all over them as it began to return into its original form. The dragon that was brutally killed, the soldiers that lad helpless in a heap of helmets and broken weapons sifted into nothing but a bundle of pixels that flew into the air, becoming one with the atmosphere. 

  
Whacking his sword near the ground to wipe the blood off it, Sephiroth closed his eyes, strapping the blade to his back. The ponytail he wore opened mid-battle, allowing his smooth silver hair to adorn his shoulders and veil his back. Angeal and Genesis were a step behind him, with the raven boy to his right, running a cloth around the massive blade he was wore to wield due to the loss of his little one, and Genesis to his left, scoffing into the open air. 

  
“Well, how was that for show?” he ran a hand through fiery bangs, smoothening the edges and arranging it intricately. 

  
Mr. Heidegger stomped forward up till he was a couple of steps away from the silver male. Mr. Tuesti followed in a rush; surprise evident in his amazed smile. He was the first to respond, unable to hold back the awe in his tone. “Yes! That was exactly what we were expecting.”

  
He really sounded like a proud boss that Angeal and Genesis wanted. Mr. Heidegger, however, put a quick damper to that. 

  
“What else could we expect from the Prodigy Sephiroth?”

  
Sephiroth couldn’t hold back a cringe, body flinching at the very word. Noting that, Genesis took a step forward, beckoning with a lift of his chin to his childhood friend to follow, who immediately complied, frown dressing his kind face. 

  
“With all due respect, Sir. There will be no ‘prodigy Sephiroth’ connotation.” Genesis started, barely able to hold back a snide, sneer deepening with malice. 

  
The upright superior had enough respect to ask if there was a problem with it, alien to how it put Sephiroth on a plane he didn’t want to board. 

  
“That term was not used in a manner he would find honourable, Mr. Tuesti.” Angeal answered on his behalf, giving a quick glance to Genesis who was ready to set the room on fire. It was something else to have such a magic reserve despite using many spells in one day, much less an hour. 

  
“I see. We will make sure not have it used. We apologize for the trouble, Crescent.” The malicious aura from his temperamental friend dissipated with that, leaning on a little smile as the older male apologized, body bending in a small bow to the youngest of the trio. 

  
“At ease, Sir. We shouldn’t be bowed to.” Sephiroth blinked a couple of times at the gesture, finding himself feeling rather disturbed by it. Why was it that people bowed to another fellow human? They were not gods.. just another being with limbs, organs and life. 

  
So, what if Sephiroth was a little stronger than the rest? He couldn’t cast miracles. 

  
Genesis was content with that, giving the man a nod when he lifted his head in question. Mr. Heidegger was now fuming, deeply insulted that they were forced to bow to younger pipsqueaks, little twigs who think they were so powerful merely because they had blades and magic. Arrogant bastards must’ve gotten lucky with defeating Bahamut with such ease. 

  
“Rather, I want to thank you for respecting my wish.” Sephiroth wasn’t able to tell why it was so very difficult to try a reassuring smile in this situation, but it was. It took all of him to offer a little smile that didn’t feel like it was making his stomach churn painfully. 

  
“Of course, you are under our care, we want you to make yourself at home.” Mr. Tuesti straightened himself, only to slump his shoulders when the bulkier male scoffed. 

  
“It’s only unfortunate you boys are talented, one objection like that would’ve led to a discharge.”

  
He could tell Angeal was in a boat similar when he found Genesis inch his face closer to the rude superior. He really wasn’t one to back out when time called for it. The raven teen knew it was enough to miff Mr. Heidegger who still viewed them as the squeamish little boys who called him for help when they firstly they found Sephiroth. 

  
How little and powerless they were that time, compared to now where they could take on a powerful opponent and come almost unscathed.

  
“Oh yeah? Think of what it would’ve done to your precious army? They wouldn’t be standing here, willing to kiss your boots without us.” Genesis drawled sweetly with nothing but full malevolence. Sephiroth resisted a snicker. 

  
It was amusing when Genesis got into those moods. It was his form of defending the honour of his friends since Angeal had the kind, gentler approach and an understanding ear. He recalled the teen persuading Sephiroth that there were times where finesse and uttermost respect was necessary, to kiss a hand and murmur praise in a modest and demure manner, and others where they had to be insulted to get the point. 

  
Especially when murder was not the option, which Sephiroth did far too well. 

  
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, soldier.” The superior wouldn’t back down, much to the three’s dismay. Did he not realize that he was making a fool out of himself? Making a mockery to the military, trying to contest someone who was more or less a child in his eyes, getting provoked by said greenhorn? Sephiroth had to really make sure he was not laughing out loud. 

  
The harsh grab on Genesis’ shoulder rid of that need easily. In a blink of an eye, a crimson dye filled Sephiroth's vision. It was a sudden move, and it knocked the pauldron off his shoulder. It dropped to the ground with an unnecessarily loud clang, revealing part of his shoulder that had a tint of pink, purple and red, pulsating painfully under the superior’s squeeze. Genesis bit back a deep hiss as the fleshy hand pressed a little too tightly for his liking, hatred filling his glare as he stared up the gruffy man.

  
“You are nothing but an expendable, no one here can stop me from throwing you out or think of leaving unless we approve of their resignation. Know your place, Rhapsodos.” Mr. Heidegger reprimanded, that went on deaf ears for the silver male who lifted his blade, almost about to cut that arm off. 

  
Sensing that murderous intent, Angeal made an immediate press on the hilt of Masamune, shaking his head in a rapid motion. Sephiroth found his eyes full of that same fury he was feeling. How didn’t he expect the same? Angeal was primarily Genesis’ friend, and he never, ever wanted anyone to lay their grubby fingers on him and cause him harm. 

  
Not on the shoulder that already had a condition.

  
Genesis took matters in his own hands, to everyone’s gaping—save for Sephiroth who swallowed a lump in his throat, and Angeal who closed his eyes. The auburn boy clawed his hand on their superior’s face with a scowl, shielding the contorts, the spasms of pain coursing through him. 

  
“Expecting a grovel and beg for forgiveness? Perhaps, a Rhapsodos would’ve done that.. but not me. _I am my own_.” And with that, he exploded a bout of fire onto the man’s face, knocking him good feet away. 

Genesis’ eyes never left the older male, light eyes glaring in complete contempt for the bastard who crashed on the training room floor, emitting a dark smog by the burn. The impact of such an attack caused the superior to skid an extra meter, the fabric of his uniform jacket coming loose due to the unwelcomed contact of the ground. 

  
Mr. Tuesti gaped at this, shifting his gaze to Sephiroth, then to the fallen man, returning to the silver teen in a second. Genesis lowered his hand, ignoring the stares that bore into him by hundreds of recruits and his best friends who were not ashamed of his action—it was too hypocritical to snap at him when he did what they longed to do. 

  
The second superior was also having a mental query of what Genesis had meant. He was a Rhapsodos, wasn’t he? That family in Banora were his family, whether he was disowned or not.. right?

  
No answers came to questions none even knew for the one who they wanted to interrogate had closed his mouth and heart to them. With a scowl that was not leaving his face, he met no one’s eyes nor gave a word as he trudged out of the spacious room that held so many and yet had room for more. 

  
They couldn’t punish him for doing his job.. if anything, Mr. Heidegger started the unprofessional behaviour, he was simply responding to it without submitting to it. They were permitted to exercise their rights, he made sure he had that emphasized when he gave his sermon to them. It was for circumstances as these why he gave it more attention than anyone ever had. 

  
And still it led to this.

  
The only sounds to be heard in the room was the groan of their large superior who was returning to his senses, and the taps of Genesis’ surprisingly gentle steps. Their boots were not the same as his heels that demanded echoes from the marble ground they walked upon. 

  
Sephiroth’s eyes stayed on the small of his back, assessing the options that were available to him in this moment. Should he be following Genesis out of the room? Was he supposed to stay, and do the same for his companion? He couldn’t bring himself to perform the latter, having full knowledge that the auburn boy was suffering, escaping the surrounding to keep away a face of weakness.

  
Angeal was a boat similar, wishing to stay by his side, but knew they had obligations to fulfill. They could only leave if they were permitted by Mr. Tuesti, their commanding officer. If he gave the “OK”, then they would be able to flock behind their friend and go wherever they wanted. Genesis’ leave was either going to be an open case that he would have to testify in or ignored in favour of letting their three potential commanders to rest. 

The demonstration was not part of the original plan to begin with. That they had to explain to the Shinra family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a great weekend.


	20. To close Pandora's box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Past and present)  
> The start is a continuation of the Chapter 18 time, quickly shifts to present time, with a flashback and ending in the present line.
> 
> -x- for past, -- for present.
> 
> Warnings? Might be some.. not sure. It’s depressing? I don’t know what to say at this point, Genesis is mostly my warnings. I write this poor guy so…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- somehow, trying to fix the link got rid of this, but oh well. The doodle link that is very stubborn is this (https://amareinmortis.tumblr.com/post/633438412384452608/the-lack-of-script-was-a-happy-accident-the-fact) just paste that and it should work.  
> \- so far, last appearance for Vincent.

**-x-**

When the auburn boy came to, he found two doctors looming over him. One was the bearded doctor with the short black hair that was parted from the middle like a toupee, and the other was that creepy fake father of Sephiroth.

  
Hollander and Hojo, respectively, but not _respectfully_. 

_My uncertain soul melts entirely into oblivion._

“Oh look, Hollander,” the stringy doctor started, a sneer on his thin face that fit too well with that eerie calm of his voice, “your little plaything’s coming through.”

  
“Genesis! Oh thank the goddess..” why was Hollander so happy to see him awake? What was he so in glee about? Genesis was not his child… “How are you feeling? Do you need water? How many fingers am I holding up?”

  
Feigning indifference, Genesis flicked his gaze from the quack who was tearing him open with his scrutinizing glower, to the doofus with beading eyes who held a breathless grin on his face. 

  
“Hollander..~ I am quite sure he’s still incoherent, a common symptom of being in a coma for a week.” Was he explaining a fact or was he taunting the inability of the doctor and his? Genesis really.. did not like this sick excuse of a man. How dare he claim to be Sephiroth’s father all these years when there was not a single feature that resembled him?

  
“Feeling.” He curtly responded, disliking how his throat truly felt like sandpaper was rubbed over the walls of his esophagus, disabling him from utilizing his voice properly. “Holdin.. 3 fingers.”

  
“He’s in a better state than I thought..~” Hojo drawled mirthlessly, lifting a bony finger to adjust the round glasses on his face. “It’s better you don’t waste time in giving extra care for a nobody.”

  
If that doctor was still grudging against him for being the catalyst to Sephiroth’s case of transferral, then.. that was great. Genesis very much wanted to give this pain in the neck as much despair he could get, as much disappointment for almost turning a beautiful boy into a tool, into an experiment, strip him away of his humanity. 

  
Of his father and mother. 

  
“Nonsense Hojo, he’s still too weak to stand.” Hollander argued back, glaring at his companion who stared down at Genesis with an ugly sneer. “He needs rest to be up and ready to return to his classes.”

  
Hojo broke into a hollow giggle, “if it were Sephiroth, he would’ve only needed an hour to recover. This sleeping beauty sure loves to take his time.”

  
That chuckle poured shivers down his spine. He really was one deranged quack, wasn’t he? Genesis was afraid to know how he became a doctor, much less a candidate of becoming the Head of the Medical Wing. Professor Faremis was strangely absent in all this. That man was the only one in this whole place that Genesis found had an alright head on his shoulders. 

  
Alright, not meaning great. Just alright. 

  
“Sephiroth did not recover properly from his injuries, Hojo. If Vincent did not nurse him to health, who knows what would’ve happened!” did the two always bicker? From the way the long-haired doctor huffed in response, it must’ve been an everyday thing to compete with each other, using the children as their subjects. “At least, keeping Genesis sedated for this long was good for his body to stabilize.”

  
“Nonetheless, this boy didn’t show improvement from last week. He’s only awake, that’s the difference.” With how dismissive Hojo had become, Genesis didn’t expect him to reach for his right shoulder, running cold fingers rather delicately. It was not a shock that he was careful, knowing how thorough he was with his work, but with him? That was what had Genesis focus on his assessment. “This wound is not going to close for long. You’re going to die soon, Genesis. If not, then in a couple of year's time.”

  
Was this the first and last time he’d ever hear Hojo speak his name? He sure hoped so, it felt tainted escaping his lips. If he used Rhapsodos, that would’ve given a less bite for that was a borrowed name. Until he found where he was brought into the world by. 

  
“Just you watch, it will heal within time.” 

  
As much as Genesis did not have a good opinion on the skeletal doctor, he believed his words over Hollander’s. Hojo was not one for sweet lies, begs for hope, encouragement or pleasantries, no… he was perhaps one of the few who correctly assessed circumstances and drew out the most logical conclusion, the cold, hard and plain truth. As much as Genesis marked him as the enemy of the goddess, Hojo was right.

  
His arm was not going to be the same. It was not going to get better.

  
“Don’t kid yourself, even he doesn’t believe you.” The rail-thin male’s eyes met his again, and Genesis wished it never made contact. Goodness gracious, something was not right about him, and to figure that out was to open the Gates of Pandemonium. 

  
That, Genesis didn’t want to do. Feeling a little too feeble, too frail to cross. 

  
“A fine shock, isn’t it, Hollander? This kid is smarter than you and your foolish ‘honourable’ son.” He was hung, drawn and quartered in those hollow eyes, broken apart to be used as implants, as a specimen in a gigantic tank, under a stasis. A rat in the laboratory that the man was fascinated to pick apart. “He knows his place.”

  
Genesis listlessly stared at the ceiling. What was that going to mean for him? 

  
Would he be able to at least have a little part in making Angeal the hero the continent so needed? Would he be able to watch Sephiroth grow into his own person and choose his path? With eyes to the ceiling, he breathed a prayer to the goddess to give him enough time to see it all to the end before he falls. 

  
And golly.. for him to be on the same road as Hojo was surely a sign of pure and unadulterated insanity. He better make a note never to let Sephiroth nor Angeal know. 

  
“That’s quite enough from you. My son is my pride and honour, and I will not tolerate such awful word about him.” Hollander’s usually gentler, pseudo-caring voice rose an octave, roaring at the man whose grin kept growing, outwardly provoking him into anger by pushing his buttons. 

  
Knowing where it hurt.

  
“It’s only the truth, it’s only too bad this boy was not your son.”

  
Thank. Goodness.

  
“He would’ve been a better asset to you, ah but life is just a series of trial and error.. and this one was a failure~” Hojo finally leaned back to straighten himself, spreading his arms in the air, that evil grin still on his face as he snorted. Hollander balled his fists, eyes lingering on the scarred flesh of Genesis’ shoulder. 

  
“Do not listen to him, Genesis. There is a chance for recovery. Your body will do the work after we administer the right dosage.” Hollander’s hand reached for his that laid at his side, the hand of the wounded shoulder. The auburn boy had to give him points for trying to be encouraging, to be hopeful in a time where it had no place. 

  
He closed his eyes.

  
_“You fool. No one heals when their pitiful bodies meet the Masamune.”_ The smile in that voice of desolation revolved through his mind before his body decided to give up on him for the day. 

_In a bright white field of vision, at the end.. time is uncontrollable_. 

  
**\--**

He retreated to his dormitory room upon the earlier confrontation with the enlisting students. Bolting the doors as if he was allowing not a single soul to enter, he roughly threw off the pauldron that stayed intact, currently playing an eyesore. The clatter it made as it slammed the floor only gave him a reason to shut his eyes and clench his teeth. 

  
Reeve Tuesti, he had no problems with. That older instructor happened to be one of the most humane of them all, caring the most for students all around, perhaps more experienced than Vincent who had limited power within the Academy. 

  
Heidegger, on the other hand, was someone he was trying to fire for a long time. That old bastard had often gotten on their nerves with his overinflated ego, the abrasiveness he had with the students as he prepared them for training. He was worse than Scarlet who at least loved her work in the mechanical aspects of the Academy. The weapons they had, the VR rooms, the repairs and the weapons that they were provided were made by her instruction, so at least that was a redeeming point for her. 

  
She was indifferent to the student’s suffering or anguish. That was the reality of pretty much most instructor that existed unless they were paid very high. Mr. Tuesti was either paid well or he was still new to the whole thing. No other explanation for his kindness, and Genesis had to admit to himself, he felt bad for leaving on such a bitter note.

  
It would undermine the poor guy’s credibility. No doubt he was going to be fired soon. The Headmaster was not fond of the soft-hearted people who nurtured their students to assist them to reach their full potential. Charity took money out of his pocket, after all. Money spoke better than humanity. 

  
Grumbling to himself, Genesis let his body flop onto the bed he sat upon. The mattress quite so swallowed him with its cushiony surface, dipping with his weight upon it. Spreading his arms on the spacious bed, he stared at the ceiling, heaving a sigh. How was he going to face Angeal and Sephiroth now? Cloud, Zack or Kunsel.. those little gremlins that he really enjoyed having under his wing. Surely, they would want to stay far away from him after finding out that he lost his temper and burnt the face of his teacher. 

  
There was no way Angeal was going to smile about it and say, ‘well, it served him right’. No doubt, he was going to lecture Genesis about the value of honour that they have been bestowed with, the pride and integrity they must hold as future soldiers of this Academy that had granted them so much favours. Sephiroth was going to point Masamune at him and sneer, telling him of the irony of stopping him those three years ago when he was so close to ending the Headmaster’s life. 

  
If he was allowed to do exactly that, none of this would’ve been happening. 

_And your voice is all I’ve heard, that I get what I deserved._

He really should’ve let him off that old fart. This whole shebang would’ve ended with that, Lazard would’ve become the next in line to inherit the Academy since it was his father who owned it, and since he was already over nineteen years of age, they could’ve worked the kinks out and sort it through. Rufus was still a little under 17, not much could’ve been made out of that. 

  
It wasn’t as if he liked the Headmaster or the ShinRa family in general. Rufus was a bit of a wanker, Lazard was a little stuck-up, their father was a downright bastard, their mothers.. miserable fools. Cloud was the only one he felt happy to be around. That little blond shared the unfortunate blond locks with each sibling—all of them having the shade of their father’s hair, but his personality? Completely apart.

  
If Rufus was the rebel teen who had everything under his finger, Lazard the boring damage control guy who stood beside his little brother, Cloud was the free spirit who actually chose his own life route. He didn’t conform to replacing his father or having any big role in the Academy’s management, otherwise he would’ve been a part of the Student Council—something they forced Sephiroth to take part in. 

  
Why did he stop Sephiroth from killing their father? Cloud would’ve been elated to see that son of a gun sweep under the rug, deep into the ground where no one can dig. Rufus would’ve smiled his way, heck, he could imagine Lazard not perturbed by it either. The oldest sibling would’ve been granted a big favour for the removal of Headmaster ShinRa from the equation. 

  
Genesis himself didn’t like his own judgment over this. Sephiroth’s hands had been stained crimson years before he was part of the Academic wing, before he was transferred, he has killed thousands. A million even. That lad did not know how to stop once he had that precious blade in his arms, when he had the opportunity to slay his opponents. 

  
Those eyes he gazed into today in the simulation.. were the same as he’d seen within his dreams. They were brimmed to the core with a bloodlust insatiable. Genesis knew that was the reason why Angeal was wary to follow his rhythm when they battled. For Genesis, he felt compelled to obey, bound by a sudden duty to match to his beat because it was absolutely necessary. It was imperative that he trust the silver teen in every step of the way.

  
Even if it went above what he was capable of. 

  
The second he doubted him, Angeal got hurt. It wasn’t the heaviness of the hit that boggled Genesis at his final nerve, it was that his stumble caused Angeal to be a victim. If he didn’t mess up that time, he could’ve evaded that shot, Genesis would not have stumbled in creating that strange fusion spell he couldn’t remember. If he hadn't had better control, that kind of knee-jerk reaction could've been a lot more unstable, cause more damage than necessary.

  
Sephiroth’s gaze was full of intrigue, of curiosity when he shot that mix of lightning and ice that froze the dragon in place. He couldn’t answer any query upon it, finding himself asking just the same. 

  
He wasn’t afraid of Sephiroth at any time until these days. It was truly peculiar.. nothing about him has changed When his blade plunged through his shoulder and twisted painfully, when he was almost bisected by the silver teen, he wasn’t scared of him. Sephiroth very much resembled an Angel of Death and he didn’t care. He needed to keep him from doing something he would soon regret and stepped in.

  
And by the goddess, it hurt. 

  
It hurt even now, three years after that incident and it felt fresh. Damn that Heidegger. Damn that Headmaster, damn the staff of the Academy, damn his “parents”. Damn all those bastards.

  
Damn… No. He couldn’t blame Seph, not _poor little Sephiroth._

  
But why… why now he was trembling at the thought of Sephiroth glaring down at him? At earning Sephiroth’s contempt. If he had dubbed him unforgiven. 

  
His shoulder pulsated terribly. The pauldron that covered his shoulder was long removed by that chunky git’s hand, revealing the ugly marking that his turtleneck couldn’t conceal. 

  
The wound was supposed to be a small incision just below his collarbone and above his breast, the size of the thin, graceful blade. Over the passage of time, it started to grow into an ugly blotch of pink and red scarring of tissue, protruding out as if the skin itself was burnt and spread over the round of his shoulder. It was brusque to the touch, bulging and disgusting. 

  
Did it reopen by any chance? Hollander did instruct him not to continue strenuous activities.. 

  
What constituted as activities that would cause a strain in his arm? Enlisting? Writing? Performances? Was he supposed to retire and try another job that didn’t involve using his right arm at all? What was going to do if that was the case? He was not left-handed as Sephiroth was. He could try practice his song writing with his left hand, that would take a while, but it wasn’t impossible, but fighting? That would be a little tasking. 

  
He would be ranked far below Angeal and Sephiroth, even more than he already was for his deficiency in body mass. His slender figure had him nearly rejected until the option of signing him as a magic oriented swordsman was proposed by Mr. Tuesti. That was why he was called for the demonstration with Sephiroth and Angeal.

  
It was supposed to be only the two. 

  
Genesis didn’t miss the eyebrows of many in the room raise when he stepped up. When Mr. Tuesti took his name, when Sephiroth agreed with his suggestion of a more challenging terrain to prove their above-average skills. The amazement over the fulfillment of what they considered one that could’ve injured each of them, regardless of skill level.

  
The _disbelief_ they all shared.

  
Laying on the bed, he closed his eyes. Sleep was an option to escape the madness that followed him day by day, would it be granted to him? Perhaps not. Not when his mind was still wandering, searching for the reason why he stopped Sephiroth that night in his attempt of murder. 

  
Why didn’t he let him be killed..?

**-x-**

It was near the evening after their classes when the three dispersed around the Academy wings, playing a little game of “hide and go seek”. It was a strange suggestion by the silver haired male, but the oldest figured it must’ve been a ‘something to do before becoming a full adult’, as he still had a couple of days before he became eighteen years of age. 

  
When the suggestion was brought to the two boys of Banora, Angeal approved of the idea. He claimed that it was a good time for a break and a way to teach them how to catch their opponents off-guard when they are in the battlefields. If they get the idea that they are hunting or being hunted, it would prepare them for the real moment they are doing either.

  
Genesis shrugged; his mind occupied in his books. Why else would he need to pay attention to the Planet that spun without notifying him, that adored the sun and feared the moon. He did raise both brows at what was asked of him. 

  
Sephiroth wanted to play a game that was not sparring as if they were in a death battle? Well. Wonders truly never cease. 

  
And that was why they were here, darting through room to room of the Academy that was suddenly huge. The structure was massive with countless hiding spots, too much travel that would render any person tired if they had to get through every hall and every corner. 

  
And many people had stamina that was on the spectrum Genesis had. Average. 

  
It couldn’t be helped he was not trained every year of his life as Sephiroth was, or very athletic as Angeal was, who worked in the fields days in and out. Genesis maintained a good balance of training his mind and his body, mostly his mind for he wanted to pursue all intellectual pursuits before physicality. He was a quick learner, had a penchant for filling his brain better than Angeal whose sanity was on a league of its own.

  
That lad had too much patience for a little country boy. Genesis may have had the literary and Academic knowledge, but it took priority over his mental fortitude. He didn’t quite possess the drive to build his body to be muscular and strong, preferring to be the one who could slip into narrow spaces or launch quick attacks with his blade. 

  
At least, he was able to hold swords for more than an hour. Rapier was still difficult for him to get around, finding himself more interested in the Runes that worked with the crimson blade than training as Angeal had. 

  
That was outside the point, however. The point was that Genesis was practically checking every room possible to find Angeal and Sephiroth without letting the staff catch word of their actions. It was as if he was sneaking into an enemy Headquarters in a pursuit of secret documents. 

  
And it wasn’t going too well. 

  
You see.. their hide and go seek was not the conventional ‘hide in one place and one sought them out’. It was more of a hunt for each other. They would hide for a couple of minutes, then make an attempt on sneaking onto the other and “harmlessly” surprise attack them. In a way, it was a perfect game of cat and mouse. A natural disaster. 

  
Genesis was up for playing neither hunter nor the prey. His attention diverted to the nagging feeling in his gut that he was waited for. The game was only something to rouse the dormant senses of the silver haired boy, the instincts of a battle that he was so accustomed to breathing every day of. If Genesis was the one full of nerves and fear, he would think Sephiroth had a fascination with wanting to gnaw them like a carnivore, hound them down and bask in the difference of power between the three of them.

  
To keep him from feeling as if all that he had known was useless, they agreed to play the game. 

  
He entered the drama club room. The dreary room with the dim lighting and dull curtains had long become a second home to him after he had become Captain of the club. Larger than a broom closet and an office room, but smaller than the gymnasium where Angeal held his club’s activities, it was pretty much a large “backstage” for the students to practice their roles freely, get into their costume or simply mingle around. 

  
With dark walls and curtains that veiled a good half of the room, chairs were splayed around the room in a big circle where the members and he would read a play and stimulate discussion long enough to go into the later hours if their interests were piqued. More so than not, it was Genesis reading to himself, glancing at the veiled windows, brooding over the elements of the story, the characters, what could’ve been done and what shouldn’t have. 

  
Many plays and stories caught his eye, many stuck to his memory, but LOVELESS will always have that first place in his heart, being the one that opened his eyes to literature when he was so little. An escape, if you must, from the troubles of his everyday life. His love for that book was so well-known, it had become a running joke that Genesis would rather marry that play or emulate the characters in his life than go out and date someone. 

  
He couldn’t quite understand why it was a surprise to many of the club that he hadn’t engaged in much physical activity. Intimate activity at that. It really didn’t interest him as the literary worlds did, it didn’t make him think the way the books had him theorizing. 

  
They didn’t joke like that with Angeal and his avid interest in maintaining an honourable image, or the form of a great bodybuilder, or Sephiroth with his Masamune—oh wait, they did jest he was married to his blade. 

  
Anyroad, entering the clubroom was more or less out of instinct. He was well-aware that his two friends would find him swiftly, frown at him for not putting enough effort to try and hide in a place they wouldn’t search. If he was asked to pour his two cents into that predicament, he would answer that he didn’t care about that. 

  
He was happy to satisfy the needs of his friends, he loved them too much to leave them hanging, but he didn’t have it in him to ignore an elephant in the room. This one that called out to him appeared to have an importance he couldn’t comprehend. If he played it off as just a gut feeling, he was going to miss something significant. 

  
He couldn’t let that slide. He couldn’t afford to. Not when that gut feeling had to do with his two friends.  
The costume rack was just beyond the black curtains, that space reserved for the members to change into their garbs needed for their plays. In this waking moment, Genesis felt a presence lingering right there, even though he couldn’t hear the sound of the visitor’s breath. 

  
He wasn’t one to invade the privacy of one if they were trying to hide from the world, knowing too well how that felt. That place also being one that Genesis ran to when he had a particularly bad day and avoided Angeal or Sephiroth. If the person present required a place where they would not be bothered, then the auburn boy would leave them undisturbed. He would simply turn the other cheek and step out of the room for a ‘hiding place’ to satisfy his two friends.

  
It wasn’t the case. 

  
This person who hid behind the curtains was the one who was extend their hand to him. The cause for the churning spins in him. That suspicion that he was needed, that he had to be here and nowhere else.. it was emitting from that very being behind the curtain. If Genesis left, he would miss the chance to relay what he was to be given to him. 

  
And it would continue to bother him. He hated that feeling. 

With a nervous swallow, he unshed the curtains by a couple of inches, hands latched onto it. Genesis wasn’t really sure what awaited him, what he was supposed to expect hidden in the dark. Upon shifting the material, he prepared for the worst.

  
What if there was a monster that snuck in the Academy due to Hojo or Hollander’s carelessness? There was no telling what those wacko doctors really did. If there was a creature that lured him in for a good meal, then Genesis was going to make sure he either burns it or runs for his pathetic life. 

  
Surely, it wasn’t Angeal or Sephiroth that hid there. Their presence, while strong to Genesis, was not imposing that would terrify him like a child. Whoever this was, he was going to find out. 

  
“Vincent…?” 

  
The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, hands hesitant on the curtain as he glanced down at the curled-up figure of Sephiroth’s father. At least, it resembled his father, he wasn’t all too sure with the way his back faced the boy. From what was visible, Genesis found his normally straight jet-black hair that came down his cheeks were ragged, almost pointed as if they were thorns. It grown unruly, the luster of the beautiful bangs sharp like knives, so unlike the gentle care it naturally had. Streaks of crimson red grooved lower, reaching his shoulders in a similar fashion as the sharp bangs that used to be his straight, smooth black hair. 

  
A ragged breath sounded through the room, coming from the formerly well-kept agent. How did Genesis know this was Vincent was a mere lucky guess. Something deep inside of him recognized the figure, informing him that the agent he occasionally met was one and the same as this being crouched down. 

  
When he turned around, he couldn’t keep himself from being more astonished. The poor guy was so pale as if he was ill, eyes bright but ringed with dark circles. His longer hair jagged down his face, thin strands masking his features almost completely. 

  
“What in the goddess’ name happened to you?”

  
The agent’s eyes met his, and Genesis resisted the need to make a run for it. 

  
“Genesis.. I can’t be here anymore.” He muttered lowly, shifting his gaze to the floor. The boy knelt to his level, finally stretching his arm to touch the spiked ends of what appears to be his hair. As expected of pinpricks, it poked into his fingers, sharp and thick as it looked. 

  
“Who.. who did this to you?” 

  
This was not a form a human could take, and it was not like Vincent to become so ragged and disheveled. It had to be the work of the scientists floating around the Academy. They were the only ones who played with human manipulation, they must’ve used the JENOVA drug on him and it caused him to take this form. 

  
Hollander or Hojo, as surely, Professor Faremis would not have done this. That man could not administer the drugs for reasons no one had disclosed. Genesis concluded himself that Professor Faremis had a sensitive soul that was only able to do what doctors normally did. Hojo and Hollander were the ones who dealt with the shady drugs. 

  
“Listen, Genesis. I can’t let Sephiroth see me like this.” Crimson eyes bore into azure, and all the boy could see was nothing but that warmth the agent carried with him. Those eyes of compassion now had inklings of heartbreak and fear etched within them. He must’ve been blaming himself for what happened to him.   
If that was the case, then it was most likely not his doing. 

  
“What do you need me to do?” as much as he wanted to extract as much answers as he could get, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to attain them now. Not when the poor agent was in a panicked state, unable to decide whether he should jump out the window or stay in this spot until he is noticed. There was a full chance that he only found this room out of a desperate need to hide himself from Hojo or Hollander. 

  
Genesis had to keep it short, make it appear as if he was fiddling through the costumes to avoid any onlooker. The surveillance cameras did not reach the costume rack due to the fact that.. no one should record someone undressing! Genesis didn’t like the idea of cameras being in his domain, so he requested to have them removed.

  
There’s no telling if they have actually respected his wish or not. Taking a step closer, he released his nervous hold on the curtains, draping it behind them. 

  
“Can I entrust Sephiroth to you?” Vincent muttered to him; shame ridden in his soft, deep voice so reminiscent to his son. To this, Genesis smiled wryly. If anything, Genesis could just make a fake story about him discovering a monster that fled soon after. Vincent’s voice was so hushed, his lips barely moving, his figure messy and covered in layers of serrated clothes, it would serve as an alibi to the story. 

  
Turning around to check if he closed the door, he returned his attention to Sephiroth’s father, running his hands through the mess of what used to be such beautiful hair, uncaring if it cut the skin of his fingers.

  
“Keep him far away from Hojo as possible.” He elaborated, confirming the little boy’s suspicion on this being the work of the Medical wing’s insane staff. 

  
_“My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I?”_ he quoted LOVELESS per usual, that lovely book once again proving how relevant it was to the world they lived in, the life that they were playing out. Finding a tiny little smile appear on the sickly, pale features, his own smile grew. “Where will you go?”

  
“I don’t know...” crimson eyes shifted from him, and for a second, Genesis caught on flickers of gold within those scarlet irises. How was it that one that, to a regular human’s standard, resembled a monster appear so beautiful? He was simply entrancing, one that Genesis couldn’t turn the other way from. That split-second glimmer faded, returning into its brilliant red. “I do know who I am going to.”

  
“Who?” The boy breathlessly responded.

  
“Your father.”

  
“Father…?” And by the firmness of Vincent’s answer, he knew it had to do with the one who created him. The agent was one of the few who knew he was not born a Rhapsodos, it had to be that one figure that Genesis had no idea about, the one he missed in his life. 

  
The one shrouded in mystery. 

  
The boy’s hand fell as the agent uncurled himself, standing up. With the new appearance he held, Genesis felt even shorter than he already was. It was a wonder how casually he was speaking to him when he was the exact image of a demon in his current form, rough edged and dressed up in shame. The shades of blood seeping down his long and lithe body, all traces of that formal wear he used to have gone with a trace. 

Heck, one of his arms were embellished with a gold claw! The gun that he had tucked away on his waist was larger, resembling a vampire hunter’s holy weapons. 

  
“I can’t spend another minute here, forgive me, Genesis.” How could he ever think of considering him a demon when those eyes held that same affection as it did the first couple of times he confronted him? This was the man who gave Sephiroth his new life, the one who now must’ve been tortured for protecting his baby. “When I return, I will bring your family with me.”

  
“My.. family.” Genesis swallowed a second lump in his throat. 

  
He couldn’t keep the agent in the room for the danger of anyone entering inside and catching the two interacting. If they already know of this confrontation, then Genesis should consider not communicating with any superior unless it was for Academic work. His mind begged for answers that Vincent held, but his heart couldn’t stand holding him back. 

  
He’s not supposed to help the ShinRa staff imprison the poor guy. 

  
“Don’t tell Sephiroth anything, please. Not until I return.”

  
Before he could reply to him, Vincent raced to the window. The boy was left frozen in place, petrified at how the agent dissolved into the shadows like a phantom, disappearing right in front of him in a smog of darkness. With the slick speed of a panther, he was gone, leaving behind a gust of wind as he cut through its natural flow, and a shred of red cloth that must’ve ripped from the robe he carelessly had on his shoulders. 

  
Just then, the door opened with a light click, and Genesis couldn’t hold back a gasp, almost shrieking. 

“Someone in here?”

  
Oh, it was just Angeal. Thank Gaia it was just his sweet best friend, not Sephiroth.

  
“Gen?” he called out. To break out of the frozen state he was in, Genesis made a quick motion to fiddle around with the costumes on the rack, fishing through a few as if he was examining the work on it.   
“You found me, Ang’.”

  
What else was he going to say? He was caught in his own domain, and his friend was surely upset by it. As he thought earlier, he really could not give a hoot about that when there was that bigger problem needed to be addressed. 

  
And truly important it was.

  
With a little laugh, Angeal moved the curtains to meet his friend. “Not a good hiding spot, but at least you tried.”

  
Facing his friend, he put up a smirk, tucking the red cloth into the pocket of his blazer. “It’s been an hour and Sephiroth couldn’t find me, so it must be a great spot.”

  
It was a point, wasn’t it? Sephiroth still had a lot to learn, so any place he hid was a clever one 

  
“Indeed it is,” a deeper voice crooned. “Now if only Angeal knew.. he was being followed.”

  
As on cue, the two whipped their gazes to the door where he stood, Masamune bold held on his left hand. Silent as a serpent, Sephiroth stalked in, smirking at the two as if he found his foolish prey. Genesis really felt the need to sigh, his mind still reeling over what he witnessed earlier. 

  
But if he did that, the two would catch on the fact that he realized something a little too strange for his own good. He couldn’t do that to Vincent, poor lad was already so shaken up as it was, if he told them what happened just a couple of minutes ago, their heads would be rolling with his. 

  
As the oldest of the trio, he had to make sure to zip his lips shut about this, keep it tight and away from them all. He had to ensure that he was still behaving in that haughty, know-it-all way he usually did. Even when he didn’t feel like making a sarcastic comment.

  
Here his drama club Captain skills are put to the test, he had to give them a good performance. Tuck it all in Pandora’s box until it was needed to be opened. 

  
“Wow Angeal, you couldn’t tell he was tailing you?” To add flair to his natural theatrics, he lifted his arm up and waved it around, eyes wide, indignantly. It should be easy to pretend when he didn’t think about pretending. He just had to make sure he behaved in a Genesis-like manner, smooth and natural. 

  
Good thing he was always an outwardly expressive person. He could veil his concerns with mock anger instead.

  
“He was really quiet!” Angeal defended, sheepishly smiling back to his friend, then glanced at Sephiroth. “Guess you found both of us easily.”

  
“I have the disadvantage of this Academy’s different wings and campuses, I recalled that only when we started to hide.” The silver teen’s eyes were on the floor, almost shameful of admitting a shortcoming. “I know our classes, but nothing outside of what you two have shown me.”

  
“Hei, don’t feel bad! At least you have the stamina to check every freaking room. I can only go around some places on this campus.” Genesis huffed, only lowering himself because it was an effective move to have his friend (or anyone in that matter) feel better of their flaw. 

  
“It is a spacious campus..” Sephiroth nodded in agreement, tucking his sword behind him and stepping to the two. “So, who won?”

  
At that, Genesis’ eyes went to Sephiroth, pouting. They were not going to talk about who won in this current situation. In his own defense, Genesis didn’t really have the time to hide after finding Vincent, finding him here was a fluke. If he really put an effort, he would’ve gone somewhere like the Junon campus or something. He could’ve tried hiding within the statue of the large cannon in that wing. 

  
On a game that was barely played, there was no victory anywhere.

  
“This one doesn’t count!” he had to object. He needed to. 

  
“Why doesn’t it, Genesis?” oh, how he hated how innocent Sephiroth sounded. 

  
“Because you didn’t bother trying?” Angeal countered, snickering at him as he rested a hand on his hip.   
Genesis was ready to justify his ‘lack of effort’ by getting an emergency club call, balling his hands into fists and drawing a deep breath. He was prepared to defend his position, set to stand his ground and refute that cold accusation of him not bothering to try…

  
_He burst out laughing_ , instead. 

  
Sephiroth and Angeal exchanged glances. The slightly older male shrugged a shoulder, finding no reason not to try and join in. If Genesis was not fuming, the better. The two chuckled lightly at first, with the raven teen closing his eyes, moving a hand to his waist, the other arm running fingers near his open mouth, and Sephiroth stiffly huffing a giggle. 

  
His eyes caught the auburn teen beginning to stumble, tumbling back into the costume rack before he could regain his balance. As the boy landed fell, his back caught into the hanging coats and scarfs hung upon the railing, causing some to slip off. In a similar fashion, the wheels of the rack rolled until it met the wall. One after another, the hats carelessly tossed on top dropped onto his auburn head as he pushed himself forward and settle himself. 

  
As if watching their reactions, the oldest male glanced at them, shifting the bright green hat to clear his obscured vision. Angeal and Sephiroth’s were upon him, Angeal ceasing his guffaw, and Sephiroth with a confused smile. It was as if he too asked if it was alright to truly laugh, for it was quite the spectacle, but his friend's well-being came over his personal enjoyment. Finding that he was the reason why Sephiroth held himself back, assessed what he had. 

  
He looked hilarious: carelessly sitting on his costumes, two hats draping his head, ready to slide off. He had no reason to believe they should not be laughing right here, right now. And he wasn't going to be the one who planks that “no fun allowed” sign into the ground. He wasn’t insulted that they found humour in this, that he was in a situation where his natural hubris was let off. Taking that second to glance at their faces, Genesis’ grin widened, breaking into a loud cackle, permitting them to do the same, laugh as if there was nothing else in the world they could do. He was just in such relieved that they were making a moment that was bound to be awkward into something alright. 

  
That they didn’t call him out on it. 

For in this moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He simply couldn’t. 

**\--**

_If only just for a little while.. I want to feel like a human once more._

Right… that was why.

  
And just the day after, it all crumbles. A day Genesis wished no one lived. Not for the wound that wouldn't ever heal, not for the news to dawn upon him of his short, painful life. No.. it was a day that caused soft, sweet and so breakable Sephiroth to cry. The pain that he cannot erase no matter how many years had gone by. The silver teen may have had the skills and body of an armada of soldiers, but his heart was as frail and unprotected as a seven year old.

  
Genesis' responsibility, and no matter how hard he tried, he has failed him and Angeal.

  
Opening his eyes to face the ceiling of his room, half-lidded eyes shifted to the PHS lying next to his pillow. Lifting himself just slightly, he reached for the damned device, not interested in all the notifications it tried giving him, desperately blinging every now and then till it gave out. 

  
Flipping it open, he ignored the blobs of messages he apparently got from his friends. Now was not the time to be reading their messages, this was a time for something much more. He had to make a call, right now. A call to someone who was not in their circle.

  
Bringing the cellular piece to his ear, he almost spoke in a command, stopping himself last minute. If he barked orders, there was no way of getting a certain answer. The lad he wanted to speak to, had to share a mutual interest, a sense of voluntariness. 

“Hei Kunsel, how would you feel if you were given a higher clearance?”

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend.


	21. Progression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth has a meeting with the President and Vice of the Student Council.  
> Kunsel gets a new set of tasks to do. Where could that take us?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Damn, we're actually entering the latter half of this book. Huzzah. Huzzah. Better start writing more before I get caught up.
> 
> -Also, felt like giving some screentime to Rufus and Lazard. It’s been ages, I was supposed to bring the Student Council earlier, but the five took over and that was that. Ironically, Rufus is one my favourites, he's far too amusing.
> 
> -Kunsel will appear more often. That’s another update. Soon Avalanche will be seen. I don’t know about Deepground yet. I’m kind of putting too much canon in this, and that was not planned. Then again.. this whole story was not planned.  
> Not like this, but I like it. I hope I handle it well.

\--

“Sephiroth, it’s not often that you speak to me, what is it that I could indulge you with?” 

  
The blond started, fingers steepled as he let the pen formerly in his hand to roll along his desk, coming to a stop when it collided with the binding of a book. They were situated in the Student Council’s office, which was reminiscent to a boardroom similar to the staff room when they had panel discussions. Beside the younger blond was the eldest brother of the ShinRa family—Lazard Deusericus. 

  
Lazard was appointed Vice-President of the Student Council when Rufus came into the picture. Rufus was not actively trying to overthrow his older brother from his previous position as President, Sephiroth recalled it being the work of a coincidence. Rufus had many changes he wanted to make within the Academy, and it led him to earn the ‘big chair’.

  
At least it was not Busby’s Chair, so Genesis cursed it to be. To his misfortune, the younger boy was still alive and quite well. Sephiroth did not particularly mind Rufus, no no. If anything, he appreciated that the rotten Headmaster had something worthwhile. These two brothers who were not very much involved with Strife were quite the duo.

  
Lazard was the gentler force, a little more forceful and yet lax. He liked to crack a couple of jokes, smile with such trouble it had one asking if he wanted company to simply pass the time with. When Sephiroth got word of what wine was, he had a difficult time not picturing it sitting on the table under Lazard’s finger.

  
As Vice-President, he watched over his younger brother who.. golly, did not really think of the repercussions of his work so long as it worked. Rufus was meticulous with words, choosing each phrase carefully and didn’t dance around the bush. If there was something he wanted, he would snap his fingers and keep a close eye to ensure it happened exactly how he proposed. Lazard was why Rufus had no blemish upon his skin. 

  
But Rufus was why Lazard did not have any grey hair, nor piles of paper on his desk and complaining students. The younger brother and middle of three was one piece of work, a good piece that Sephiroth liked. He was clever, unafraid of adversity no matter how dire. The lad had a sword pointed to him and all he did was lift his finger and touch the tip, smile present and without a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. 

  
Even now, it was playing a gamble to try and go against what Sephiroth wanted to bring to the table. If Rufus was going to give him a dwindled speech of nonsense regarding his suggestion, there was no doubt he was going to act against the boy. 

  
All Rufus did was link his fingers and smile casually at him. Almost challenging him with nothing but a gaze. That was admirable, to say the least. 

  
“I propose that we make changes to the staff of this Academy.” 

  
As soon as Sephiroth finished his request, the boy had the audacity to respond in a casual whistle. The older brother had a knee-jerk whip of his head in the silver-haired male’s direction, staring as if he grew a second head. If he was drinking anything, surely, it would’ve sprayed from his lips in an instant.

  
“I don’t think we have the power to make such adjustments, we’re just the Student Council for Gaia’s sake.” Although Lazard was the one to object, there was something that Angeal taught Sephiroth about the choice of tone to pay a close ear to. There was a way to tell one was lying through their teeth by the delivery of their speech. 

  
This was a moment of that.

  
While they didn’t have sweeping power over everything, they did have some capabilities to make changes. Or that tone was merely the oldest brother’s disdain for the staff. 

  
“Oh no, Lazard. Let’s hear him out.” Rufus was on the same wavelength as Sephiroth, smiling in contemplation. Lazard huffed in response, running his fingers along the reflective glass of his glasses and lifted them up his nose. “Sephiroth, what kind of change are you looking for?” 

  
“A couple of things. For example, a demotion to Mr. Palmer for pursuing personal interest at the expense of the Academy’s finances, laying off Mr. Braithwaite, Ms. Jenson, and Mr. Kinder for incompetence..” 

  
He had a couple of names written down on a list in case he forgotten. It went on for a while, going from the instructors of his class to ones that were newly hired but were not handling the ropes well. The Academy’s standard was a little too harsh for their soft souls, it had Angeal concerned of their sanity. He tried to help them with their method of teaching while Genesis laughed at them, claiming that his parents—condemn them, could train a student better. 

  
After he mentioned more names for similar reasons, the next had the two raise brows. “And Mr. Heidegger for committing the offence of assault against a student.”

  
“Mr. Heidegger was the Head of Public Safety; he is the security of this Academy.” Lazard voiced out what the two wished to. Rufus on the other hand gave a slow nod, eyeing his brother before meeting Sephiroth’s steeled gaze.

  
“If it’s all right to ask, what student did he harass? I’d like to hear his side of the story before we.. talk to father about it.”

  
Sephiroth met the eyes of uncertainty, eyes that were curious of the harm this instructor caused just when he was assigned to training the enlisting students. There was a tinge of contempt in those bright eyes, it spoke enough of his interest to approve of Sephiroth’s proposal. 

  
“The student is..” was _Rhapsodos_ the name on record? For some reason, it felt wrong to use today than it did yesterday and before. “Genesis.”

  
While Rufus gazed to and fro in a sway of a pendulum, Lazard recognized his name, tugging at his brother’s arm who furrowed his brow. 

  
“He was that one student who was injured protecting the Headmaster.”

  
To Sephiroth’s surprise, Rufus gave a grimace.

  
“How distasteful. Why would he want to do that?”

  
“What do you mean?” This time, Sephiroth was raising his brows, off-guard by such a remark. 

  
Surely, he would be happy to hear a student saved his father from mortal doom, no? Shouldn’t he be pleased that he still had the family’s central pillar in place? A student stood and faced Masamune so carelessly, honoured by the few students who knew of the incident. 

  
“Even I wouldn’t shield that old man if he had a gun pointed at him.” Sephiroth was not sure how to react to such an honest statement. The wry smile that accompanied such response had him more confused. 

  
The silver-haired male may have had a negative opinion on their father, that was understandable, he was not the one who raised him. For the two to share that revulsion.. really spoke of his character. Rufus had no one in particular he liked nor disliked, viewing everyone the same as he did pieces on a chessboard. Each had their value and their limit, if crossed, all could be beasts as they could be sheep. 

  
If he had an expression with such repugnance, it had to be a big reason. 

  
“Tell me Sephiroth, do you think it is possible for any student in the right mind to like my father?”

  
“Do you want an honest answer, or one expected of me?” it was very much possible that they were setting him up, trying to ensnare him into a trap of some sort. He had to step carefully. While he would lop off the head of the Headmaster with a big smile, he didn’t feel the same for Rufus and Lazard. 

  
If there were a few other than his friends who he wanted to stay as allies, it was these two. If they had power similar to the Headmaster, Sephiroth believed the Academy would be in better hands. If they were too young for such responsibility, Reeve Tuesti could easily take that place. 

  
To his question, Rufus lolled his head back in laughter. Lazard was right in the middle of mortification and silent agreement.. 

  
“I enjoy your sense of humour, Sephiroth. It insinuates that you should be answering differently.”

  
“Commonly, I would be asked to answer in a manner that is the equivalent to prostrating myself and showering him with praise.” Wasn’t that how a slave addressed their master? Students were the same as those inferior when the Headmaster gave them a place to enhance their knowledge.. 

  
“Do you think of him a god? If I recall correctly, we have a goddess,” the blond snickered, “unless you believe he has a resemblance to her.”

  
Sephiroth felt the need to laugh, struggling to keep a straight face. It did not help that he was starting to see a similarity between his two best friends with these two brothers. It was not a far-off assessment to compare Rufus to Genesis and Lazard to Angeal. The brothers were in good terms with each other, with Lazard appearing to be the one who wants to keep Rufus from making too many bold statements, and Rufus sailing smoothly with it. 

  
“My mistake. I wanted to keep it respectful, but it seems that I am encouraged to put it to rest.” 

  
“Indeed, you are.” Rufus’ smile grew, resting his chin on his linked fingers, “be honest. I don’t appreciate falsehood.”

  
“I think no reasonable human being should like your father.” He was asked to be truthful, to drop the gun. Then why should Sephiroth continue beating around the bush? If he was granted permission to speak his mind, then he should take it with gratitude. 

  
“That’s what I thought.”

  
It was then Sephiroth took another glance around the room, finding it strangely empty. The Student Council room usually had those strange students who resembled some co-operatives on a mission, dressed head to toe in pure formality, very much like Vincent and yet, years younger than Sephiroth. Were they actors or striving agents? It was almost laughable that they acted as though they were auditioning for a movie such as James Bond or something. 

  
“I’ll call in the members when we settle on a meeting.” Rufus answered for him, gentler than the amused tone he had the whole time, and Sephiroth glanced at him. How did he know he was wondering about the others? “It’s written on your face, my friend.”

  
“When will we hold this meeting to discuss this?” Why must human interaction puzzle him even now…

  
“After I’ve spoken to the student you mentioned,” uncurling his fingers, Rufus pushed himself back on the large chair, eyes at the ceiling, “and after Tseng and Cissnei return from their classes.”

“I see.. that is in two hours, is it not?”

  
“Enough time for further discussion and a meeting with that Genesis boy.” 

  
In a general pretense, the silver haired male wouldn’t have minded the older brother’s quietness. If he absorbed their conversation with a mutual understanding, it did the Student Council countless favours. However, in this current moment, it was rather disturbing. It was as if he had much to say but kept it locked up inside. 

  
“What do you think, Lazard?” Rufus must’ve had thought the same if he was opening the floor to his brother, despite the possible unnecessity of it. 

  
“Of what?” In this minute, it really did seem as though the Vice-President longed to be elsewhere.  
“Discussing this with the others.”

  
“It’s going to be a drag.” He offered a wan smile, “what I am more interested in knowing is what caused Sephiroth to try and kill the Headmaster—father, those years ago.”

  
Lifting his head just a bit off the top of his leather chair to glance at his brother, Rufus fell back with a long sigh, smiling another time.

  
“Oh brother.. I’d rather wonder why Sephiroth _hadn’t_ killed father ages ago.” Sephiroth felt those bright eyes gaze at him, “an answer to Lazard’s query would be nice, I suppose. I expected another student to try and chop my father’s head off.”

  
“My point being.” Lazard seconded, rolling his eyes, “I expected Rhapsodos to be the one attempting with you holding him back, but what I saw when I entered the room was the other way around.”

  
When Rufus drawled a small, ‘uhhh’, his brother huffed with a smile, “Rhapsodos is Genesis. The same boy Sephiroth is talking about.”

  
“Oh, I see. Then by all means, continue.” He waved at them in a casual manner, dismissing himself by lending his ears to them, folding his arms to his lap. Sephiroth shifted on his seat to better face Lazard who was across him. 

  
“I should start with a question; what do you know of my transfer?”

  
“Rufus and I have a vague idea of your involvement in the militia.” Lazard’s eyes shifted to the wall, “an agent who went by Valentine approached us regarding this transfer, and we had you placed here. I think it was a good decision overall, as no child should be exposed to such a danger, no matter how skilled they are.”

  
“You know of Vincent Valentine.” Sephiroth stated, realizing that the Vice-President was explaining the events only to clear it up for Rufus who had little to no clue about what happened before he became President. Just how far in the dark was he? It was another good reason to be bitter towards his father. 

  
“Yes, Vincent Valentine was your guardian, of course I would know him.” Lazard almost giggled, choosing to shake his head in favour of it. “Unfortunately, some time before your incident with the Headmaster, he was sent out of the Academy. That, I am still unsure why.”

  
“Rufus, do you know?” Sephiroth reminded himself to remain seated, steady his beating heart, to keep his hands uncurled. When it came to the agent, it took all his willpower not to snap at anyone who either spoke ill of him, or to go after the Headmaster and the staff for removing him without his consent. 

  
He was eighteen when he was discharged, shouldn’t he have had a say in it?

  
“The Student Council is still investigating on that. Strangely enough, it’s proven to be quite difficult.” He lamented. To have a limit in knowledge could be quite frustrating, Sephiroth sympathized with that. Rufus had the soul of an informant, to have holes in his access to information was a loss to those of his kind. 

  
“Is it an issue of clearance?” he pressed. If it was, then there was no way he could get his friends or the Student Council to find the truth that he so desperately sought. 

  
“No, our clearance should allow us to be privy to all information of students and on the staff. It’s just where this information is.. we haven’t been able to find.”

  
“Rumours has it that one student knows. Who that is? We have yet to search for.” Lazard added, adjusting his glasses a second time. “When we do, we’ll have you question them yourself.”

  
“Why me?” Sephiroth’s gaze flicked from Rufus to Lazard. From the corner of his eyes, he found the younger brother ran a hand through his hair.

  
“You’re the most curious about it, why not give you that chance?”

  
That’s rather considerate of him. 

  
“Returning to the subject in hand..” Lazard’s eyes met bright green, “Sephiroth, is Valentine’s disappearance the driving force behind your actions?”

  
Sephiroth could only nod in response, unsure of what else he could answer. 

  
When the news came to him that his caretaker had vanished, something in him broke. There was no time to pick up the broken shards as it cracked and parted, crashing onto the ground into miniscule pieces, fading into the night. Sephiroth could not stand without the need to pull his heart out and watch it spill fountains of crimson blood, drenching the thirsty floor. He couldn’t breathe without the feeling of his lungs puncturing itself, his mind blanking out as his soul fell. 

  
Masamune sought to comfort its master, returning to its rightful place, enveloped in his hand. Only then Sephiroth was able to think, to process a single thought.

  
Kill the Headmaster of ShinRa. 

  
Kill the sorry wanker for sneering in his face, spitting venomous slander about the man who gave him a chance at achieving happiness, who gave him the new covenant where his friends stood, who held him with a gentle hand and a smile so warm, his heart pumped happily. 

  
He was dead set upon it. Nothing would stop him, no one would stand in his way, no words would have him turn the other way. The Headmaster had to go, and that was final. Except… 

  
LOVELESS really was laughing at him. Fate had a strong repulsion towards him, seemed to hate him so. Cruel as it was. What he only got from trying to kill these two boys’ father was his best friend nearly dead. The blood he never once wished to be upon his hands drenched his entirely. The only one Angeal had left with, holding the scent of home.. Sephiroth nearly killed.

  
He might've slain him, indeed. That arm… 

  
There were times where he couldn’t help but wonder why Genesis had stopped him. He didn’t have it in him to ask what that promise was. 

  
He kept all queries to himself when the boy awoke, finally able to see the light of the day after being tucked away in an infirmary for weeks. Something in him had become one with the stream of life when Genesis’ eyes met his and held nothing but compassion, forgiveness, and that slight condescendence he carried with him. He wanted that auburn boy to rage at him, call him names, beat him down with the hilt of Rapier, to gnash his teeth and avoid him at all costs. 

  
What he received in place of that was Genesis staying even closer to him, almost protective like a mother. He did not bother casting Sephiroth aside. In fact, he kept him in his circle, gazed at him with those loving bright azure eyes, smiled as they sparred on occasion or played their sword tossing games. He sat beside him and including him at every chance, any event that took place..

  
That song-writing profession was something he shared with Angeal and Sephiroth before he went to the public eye and ear. He and the boy’s childhood friend were the first to get to know who “Gackt” was, and it was after this whole mess of a happening. After Vincent was set aside, Genesis and Angeal had become his lifelines. Those two becoming his reason to be, to try, to continue on, to…

  
Wait… _Holy Gaia._

  
The two brothers glanced at Sephiroth who had a sudden revelation, eyes blowing wide as he finally drew upon a conclusion he should’ve a long time ago. The one to be interrogated, the only one who knew the reason why Vincent was no longer in the Academy was right beside him the whole time.

  
Goodness gracious.

  
“Sephiroth?” Lazard called; brows knit in concern. Rufus stared on.

  
“No…” So if Genesis knew it all, why didn’t he just tell him? What is it that was stopping the boy from doing so? That promise that he stated that one time… what did it have to do with him? With Vincent? Certainly, Genesis did not know much of his caretaker enough to be holding secrets about him.

  
Right?

  
Unless he really was able to extract that from him as Sephiroth believed he could. Was the truth about him so atrocious, so wrong that it could not be shared? More than ever, he wanted to know. 

  
“If it’s alright, Lazard, Rufus, message me when we begin our meeting. I need to speak with Angeal.” He knew it was abrupt, it was unkind to suddenly up and leave. It was not courteous to leave them hanging with questions on a topic he started…

  
He had to go. Pulling out his PHS, he shot a quick text to the auburn boy, keeping it direct and succinct, ‘we need to talk’.

  
“Go on, Sephiroth. In that time, we’ll make the arrangements.” Rufus dismissed him with a wave, and Lazard smiled at him, giving a small nod.

  
Returning the nod, Sephiroth exited the Student Council’s office.

\--

  
Kunsel wasn’t sure what he was expecting. First, he was considered a conspiracy theorist of the Academy, and now? Now he had the clearance of Genesis Rhapsodos, one of the esteemed upperclassmen of this place. That meant he was currently able to search through the databases he was once unable to. You see, the Academy granted access to limited sources depending on the grade the student was in. For those in the secondary studies, they were only given enough to find peer edited articles for topics of their schooling, their program and its electives. 

  
Kunsel was not able to… let’s say, search through the Academy’s origination stories, the yearbooks and how it had gone from square one to three. With his clearance, the most he’d gotten was how many students the Academy had. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but he had a little thing in hijacking the security of the network, granting him some leverage over the regular students such as Zack or Cloud. 

  
Until they corrected the problems and his clearance returned to the basic state it was in. Then he had to rely on techniques that he found old spies doing. Going through the vents, finding little secret passages through some of the rooms in the large campus, asking the right people right questions…

  
That was how he got his stories. They were all true tales! They were not theories, damn them all.

  
It seemed to have finally paid off!

  
When the Academy wouldn’t bother acknowledging his talents, to his surprise, the bitter Rhapsodos did. The same Rhapsodos who never seemed to have LOVELESS out of his hands or mind, or never seemed to leave the drama club room unless he was with his friends, Hewley and Crescent. 

  
Well… add Cloud and Zack to that. Recently, he’s been with those two as well. It only made sense, he and Cloud were now an item, weren’t they? At least, something close to that. For all he cared, it could be a short-term thing. Though, he wished it wasn't. If there was anything Kunsel gave his heart and soul to, it was to his friends' happiness. Their smiles, their bonds he wanted to keep together.

  
Returning to the point, Rhapsodos noticed his penchant for gathering information and very specifically called him about an hour ago, offering him a raise in his clearance. At first, he wasn’t sure if he should answer happily that he’d love a raise or weigh the implications of the boy’s offer. He seemed so cross about it, as if there was something bothering him to such an extent, he needed someone to assist him in a place he didn’t have much experience with.

  
And by the goddess, he has come to the right place! If there was anyone who had a way with finding out about stuff, it was he and himself, Kunsel. What could he say? It was very amusing to find out more and more about everyone and everything, even when not many took his words as the truth. 

  
He didn’t have it in him to let him down. Not when he was the first to support his pursuit of knowledge. Yes yes.. Cloud and Zack were the first two who believed his stories, but none of them had the power to give him more access to the databases stored away from their wandering gazes. 

  
If Rhapsodos was offering, he was not going to refuse it. Nope nope nope.

  
Let’s see… what did the auburn upperclassman request him to do with this expanded clearance…

  
Oh yes, research on the Academy’s insides. Just what he had always wanted to do.

  
With this, he would ultimately find out why the Academy has this strange policy of injecting students with this super-drug to keep them from falling ill. He was pretty sure that a normal bootcamp wouldn’t even do that. This JENOVA stuff had to be illegal, banned goods that the Academy overused under the pretense that it was going to create the strongest military forces ever. The most immune students of the future to end terminal illnesses and suffering in the future. 

  
As if any drug could do that…

  
It was about damned time the truth had some light shed upon. 

  
Cracking his knuckles, he smiled as he watched the computer process Rhapsodos’ ID number and welcome him to the system. _Oh… excellent~_

  
He made sure he was alone when he began to fiddle with the system’s network. Not that it mattered much, there were countless cameras around, and for some reason, they didn’t bother assuming that Kunsel was something worthy to doubt, someone they should be keeping a close eye upon since he messes with the network’s firewalls a little too much.

  
They kept picking on Zack or someone else, Reno or something? Yeah, that fiery redhead. 

  
It was an insult to Kunsel as it was a blessing. A blessing only because it let him continue making as much changes as he wanted, and an insult because they couldn’t put two and two together. In what world would Zack, the resident puppy, know how to decode the firewalls of the ShinRa network and pose as an Administrator? Zack hacking into the school’s Internet, into their private database.

  
_**Hilarious**_.

That sweet boy would turn himself in, knowing how he adored Hewley, that man of honour and integrity. That upperclassman who held so much pride for the Academy, he would not stand hypocrisy for a second, instantly give himself if he had done wrong. 

  
Sure… kind to a fault Zack broke into the security of ShinRa. Psssssh.

  
He clicked through a couple of applications, smile growing as he realized that this was going to be a new challenge for him. The software that the upperclassmen were advanced, editions higher than the ones he was used to. That also meant breaking through them would give him more information than he could imagine. 

  
If it worked, he would be able to find even the most personal file of the ShinRa staff without revealing his own secrets. They likely suspect Rhapsodos to be fiddling around the files, he was the one who did that a good half a decade ago, no? That one time where the room hidden in the basement of their campus was compromised. 

  
The biggest chunk of intel he got from that incident was how the lock was incinerated to such a high degree, they couldn’t pinpoint the ashes where it fell. Each security camera present in the place suffered the same; burnt to a crisp and left with no traces. 

  
Just then, his PHS rang.

  
_“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess.. we seek it thus and take to the sky. Ripples form beneath the water’s surface, the wandering soul knows no rest.”_ The caller quoted. Kunsel would really be a fool if he did not recognize the verse and who has an avid love for that poem. 

  
“Sir Rhapsodos?” was he expecting results that fast? Shame welled up Kunsel’s heart, he barely started his work and Genesis wanted results? Oh goddess…

  
The system was currently in the loading process. A minute before the bar appeared, he opened an application and, launched the command prompt. When it allowed him to type, he inputted several html codes to manipulate it. 

  
The point still stood here: he had no visible results to offer to Rhapsodos. 

  
“At ease, Kunsel.” The auburn upperclassman’s voice drawled with a purr, almost as if he was smiling. If Kunsel didn’t know better, he would’ve believed he was. “Continue your work, I wanted to ask you of your interests..”

  
Ah.. 

  
“I want to enlist like you and Sir Crescent.” It wasn’t difficult to plaster a big grin and answer as if he was fangirling. As he was in the library, Genesis wanted him to pretend as if he was having idle chat, in case their PHS’ are traced someday. It was a good diversion he was putting up. 

  
If he was ever interrogated, Genesis the drama club Captain could simply reason that he was trying to get ideas for a script from the local Academy crier—storyteller. It was a calculated step to acquire Kunsel’s cooperation for whatever was up his long sleeves. Kunsel himself didn’t mind; he was getting exactly what he wanted from all this.

  
Information, the truth, the light to shed upon the darkness. He was not going to complain one bit.

  
“Surely you’d need training for that..~” and Genesis was a good actor, that’s for sure. Here it sounded inviting, spreading his arms to welcome the younger boy. He didn’t want to instruct someone, he was only 22, wasn’t he? Angeal was the kind who taught the younger students, and Sephiroth when he gets an idea around it.. Genesis? Absolutely _not_.

  
He’d rather read or sit with 100 books than be around 10 students. Eager, drooling, slimy.. dirty children, yes.. no. 

  
“I’m thinking of going to Sir Hewley for that.” He answered, choosing not to lie. 

  
The boy heard the upperclassman laugh.

  
“Oh yes, I’m definitely not up for that. What about Materia?”

  
“Materia training?”

  
“Yeah, you, the Pup and Cloud are quite atrocious at it, aren’t you?” the pup meant Zack. A playful nickname the raven upperclassman gave due to the sheer adorable excitement his best friend had. Kunsel almost adopted that nickname, almost. 

  
“You’re training Cloud in that, no?”

  
“I wouldn’t call it ‘training’. It’s more of a lost lemur asking for directions.”

  
The thought of Cloud as a squeamish little animal had Kunsel break into a chuckle. 

  
“Are you going to call me a lost lemur if I ask for help?”

  
“No…~” to his surprise, Genesis really was amused by this, “I’m thinking of taking you as a real apprentice, Kunsel. Angeal has Zack, and when Sephiroth gets a clue, he’ll take Cloud.. leaving me with no one.” 

  
“You want me as your apprentice?” as much as they were playing the pretend game, the thought of being Genesis’ student intrigued Kunsel. Very much so. 

  
“What do you say, story-teller Kunsel?” 

  
And what else could he say than, “of course! Thank you, Sir Rhapsodos.”

  
“ _Golly_ , it’s just Genesis. What do they teach you kids in the lower classes?”

  
He didn’t like titles of prestige? That was something else.. he must’ve read into too much gossip of worthless informants. 

  
“Apologies, Sir Genesis.”

  
“So imprudent.. no Sirs, Mister!”

  
Well, this was the first time where a respectful term is considered a fool’s word. Kunsel made a mental note not to infuriate the possibly short-fused upperclassman with trivial points. 

The screen popped with a message, affirming his entry as a valid code to weave into the internal system. Continuing his idle chatter with Genesis, Kunsel smirked as the screen’s lights shined down his face, displaying menus he had never been able to enter into before.

  
_I’m in._

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend.


	22. ShinRa Student Council meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present)  
> Student Council once again! This time with the members.  
> And a bit on Zack being a precious little bean. I really want to give him more limelight, so that would be soon. Such a good child he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Shotgun should've been a more important Turk.  
> \- Yep, gotta kick back into high gear and write these remaining drafts out. Still another.. 10 chapters more? Currently writing chapter 25, and it's the beginning of that something I didn't plan when writing chapter 7-9.  
> \- Happy reading~

**\--**

The day after, they were gathered around a long oval table of the boardroom. All members of the Student Council had a seat on the table, each of them going a seat farther away from the President Rufus. To the President’s sides were the Vice-President Lazard and Treasurer Tseng, a steady yet calculative lad who Sephiroth couldn’t read no matter how hard he tried. 

Beside Tseng was Sephiroth himself, and across was a bald fella who went by Rude, beside him was a fiery redhead named Reno, and next to Sephiroth was an auburn girl named Cissnei. A couple of new recruits came in who the silver-haired male forgot the names of, and near the end was two sisters, one of them named Elena. It was either he couldn’t recall what their names were, or he was flabbergasted at how half the Student Council’s ‘names’ were titles.

Specifically, firearms.

“Rufus, I ask you to weigh the odds of such actions.” Sephiroth’s eyes flicked to the black-haired male who calmly advised the President with a furrow of his brows. “If it fails, the Headmaster would consider harming even you.”

The concern in his tone was noted by all, so identical to Lazard’s when the idea was imposed upon them. Rufus couldn’t hold back a frown as his light eyes met the dark yet full eyes of Tseng.

“Does it make a difference? I’m going to be under his feet till he dies as we stand.”

On instinct, Sephiroth’s teeth bit into his lower lip. Rufus was one of the few who were not allowed to enter the enlistment program due to his position as Heir of the ShinRa Academy wealth. He was considered too valuable to put onto the battlefield, but they were also unsure of what he could do till the time Headmaster ShinRa retires. Lazard had applied for the position to oversee the process of the cadet training, and if Mr. Heidegger gets off their back, he could quite well be their Sergeant or Director. 

Rufus made an excellent tactician, but not for a battlefield. That was better off Sephiroth, Genesis and Lazard’s position. It wasn’t as if Rufus was powerless or worth nothing, it was just the concern that he truly didn’t want to be some slouch on a highchair for eons of time. 

His father was considering putting him in house arrest to “help his son grow”. Rufus was not any younger than Cloud who had just become 19 a couple of days ago, so it was rather strange for the Headmaster to still have the final word for him, but that was that it seemed. 

And Sephiroth could never understand how family works. Any time he starts to establish something, it has to leave. 

His mother he never met.. his father leaving him to die, Vincent who he had grown very close to was removed from his side, Genesis.. Angeal.. who knew when they were going to leave him? All he knew was that if they did, it was not going to be by their hand.

Those blue eyes beckoned him to stay by their side, warming his heart and liberating his caged soul. Surely, ShinRa would not stand for that. Not for this long.

Rufus was an example of this caging process. Student Council President was only a title they gave to placate him. Tseng was reminding him of that with that kind, worry-filled words. Did he know how deep he stabbed into the little blond with that?

“Yeah, but Boss man wouldn’t dare harm you, you’re his son!” the jagged red-haired boy spoke, hopping off his seat with a seethe. “You and Lazard are his sons, his cherished ones.”

Sephiroth wanted to agree. He wished that _that_ was the case. 

It definitely wasn’t.

“We’d love to share that optimism with you, Reno, but face reality for once..” Lazard murmured in a sigh, eyes closing in deep rooted irritation. 

“Fa—Headmaster ShinRa doesn’t care for the baggage that comes with him. All his eyes see is how victory against Wutai means ShinRa could overtake the government.” With furrowed brows and a wry smile, Rufus elaborated on his brother’s point, shocking each member of the Student Council, Sephiroth included.

ShinRa was merely an Academy, a military one at that. They were on good terms with the government of Midgar.. why would they try and take it over? Moreover, the battle against Wutai was long over.. a good decade or 8 years ago. The silver teen was involved in that scrap, defeating countless soldiers that stood in his way. 

They couldn’t possibly be battling as they spoke here. 

“No way..! Tseng, we have to do something about that guy.” Reno was often the outspoken one in the group the reason why he wasn’t reprimanded for his lack of filters. It was almost entertaining as it was daunting. Jokes as there were truths, careless steps as there were underlying risks. 

“That’s the point of this..” Lazard broke into a giggle, resting a white gloved hand to his lips, “can you imagine having Sephiroth’s approval?”

“What does..” the gears of the boy’s mind seemed to be taking its time with working, eyes widening when it clicked, “holy Gaia! Sephiroth and I are thinking the same thing!?”

“Close to it.” Rude corrected, eyes veiled by the dark shades he wore, “he believes a good half of the staff, the Headmaster included have become obsolete.”

Reno shouted a swear in approval. Sephiroth offered him a smile, albeit one that he couldn’t keep without feeling off-place. He found Rufus grinning when their eyes met.

That was enough to reassure him. For these three seconds, it was alright to smile.

“We will not use you cadets as direct forces.” The President drifted off, returning to subject with pressed lips, eyes briefly laying on Sephiroth, then shifting to the oak table. “The night before, I’ve found through a student that the ShinRa Academy have veterans waiting in the deeper grounds of the campus. Where they are, I have sent that boy to investigate, but if we could acquire their assistance.. it would be simple work.”

“What should we do?” Sephiroth asked, unsettlement filling his guts. 

Who was the student that was sent out? Genesis? He couldn’t contact him at all yesterday, despite sending a couple of texts and an even a call before he retired. When he reached out to Angeal, he met with a similar response. Through his best friend, he found that even Zack and Cloud were left on read when they sent messages to him. 

He could understand if he didn’t want to talk with Angeal or Sephiroth due to the incident in the training room, but his lover? That was where the line drew. Genesis was up to something and he didn’t want them on the loop of it. 

Could this be it?

“You and the enlisting students.. if we could prove that there was an improvement without Mr. Heidegger as your Sergeant, that would be most preferred.” Rufus gave a glance at his brother who supplied, running his fingers along the leg of his glasses, “if that is not possible, I could ask Hewley for his club to perform a demonstration of sword-play.”

“Hewley’s club is in a current decline, Vice-President.” Tseng pulled a tablet out of his hand-carry, flicking the screen before handing it to Lazard. “There simply are not enough students for a tournament of sorts. A mere demonstration would only take a minute.”

Reading the data on the electric screen, Lazard clicked his tongue. 

“He’s correct..”

“What about the drama club?” Elena brought up, not noticing the harsh swallow from Sephiroth who almost choked on a sip of water. “They have been quite active with their plays..”

“To impress the Headmaster, it has to be something more than Romeo and Juliet or LOVELESS.” Her sister shook her head, earning a frown from her. 

“Actually, they were practicing for something called ‘ _the Final Fantasy’_.” Cissnei interjected, speaking for the first time today, and Sephiroth’s eyes met hers. 

“What’s ‘the Final Fantasy’?” Genesis never spoke about something about a new play… Was it he who wasn’t informed, or he wasn’t paying as much attention as he thought he was? The last time he properly talked with the older male, it was about artificial birth. After that, it was small talk only on their training.. their little movie and games night that filled their rooms with laughter for a good 10 hours. 

When was it that he ceased communicating with his friends?

“I don’t know the details, but it has to do with a war between these Kingdoms, magicians and a ring to decide who the Heir is or something..” she explained, running a hand through her hair that curled down her shoulders. 

“Sounds like Lord of the Rings.” Rufus jested, a side of his face curving into a smile, “I think Cloud would know better on what they do. He’s been keeping a close eye on the literary things.”

 _Not literary things, Genesis. Just Genesis._ Sephiroth’s mind supplied. 

“I think it is possible if we provide the distraction, President.” He turned his face in Rufus’ direction, “arrange a special test designed for Genesis, Angeal and I. Have Ms. Scarlet create a trial rather than a simulation, that would keep their eyes on us while these soldiers remove the Headmaster and some.”

“Rhapsodos was wounded in that battle, was he not?” Tseng questioned, half-lidded eyes on the desk. Sephiroth could sense his presence weaken with nerves. He might’ve been the only one in the room who did not want to undergo the plan due to the possibility of Rufus in a troublesome situation.

Now, Sephiroth knew Tseng cared deeply for his friends, but not to this extent. It was remarkably similar to his own concern of his friends. Here he was actively putting the Treasurer in a constant state of fear without consideration of his feelings. The silver teen had to shake these thoughts off because it was justified. He was doing this to protect his friends, not endanger them further. They were at risk as it was. 

“Not by the battle, by Mr. Heidegger.” Sephiroth answered, clenching his fist. 

This was not wrong to do… it was not wrong to rid of the Headmaster for the safety of the students, of his friends, of _his loved ones_. If it wasn’t Genesis, it could’ve been Angeal, or Cloud, or Zack, or the underclassmen who run to him for protection. Their eyes so beady and full of hope.. he couldn’t shatter it. 

Lazard’s gaze met with Rufus, the younger of the two uncharacteristically heaving a sigh. “We could arrange it a month from now.”

“A month, why?”

“The Headmaster has booked a two-week trip to Wutai so Ms. Scarlet is put in charge of things here.” Lazard once again spoke in place of his younger brother, “as you all have observed, she is not as open minded to matters pertaining students’ well-being as Mr. Tuesti is.”

“Yeah but Pres, you’re the son of Boss man! The Scarlet witch shouldn’t have a say over what you want.” Reno objected again, and Sephiroth gave a small, rueful nod. That’s how it should’ve been. How it would’ve been if it was a world in perfect order.

It was not.

“If Father says Ms. Scarlet has sweeping power over the Academic matters, then there is nothing I can bring to the table, Reno.” Rufus lamented, and Reno sank into his seat, lolling his head up with an exasperated sigh. Tseng and Sephiroth exchanged knowing glances, coming to the same conclusion.

“A month would be a good time for practice.” The silver haired teen started, gesturing to Tseng to continue. 

“If Mr. Tuesti supervises their training for a month, he would have a more credible case, as he would be able to show the progress to the Headmaster and the overseeing staff.” When the brothers landed their gaze on the two, he continued, “we need them to see it for themselves, show Sephiroth’s prowess and they will follow through.”

Sephiroth’s little smile turned into a frown as soon as Tseng finished. He didn’t mean to bring up the fact that they had to use him as their poster boy. Everyone knew Sephiroth had the talent of a hundred, no thousands of men, it wasn’t as persuasive if he was to show off his skill to them. 

Then again.. he was the only one they were truly interested to see. 

There was a churning in his gut, a feeling of regret at the fact that he would not be able to show off his two friends who worked insanely hard to reach his level—the only two who kept up with his tireless sword style, entertained him so greatly, he would rather have no other partner than them. Angeal might not mind it, wishing only to convince himself that he was fighting in his family’s name, preserving their honourable title, but Genesis…

Genesis was not going to appreciate being sidelined. He who was more radiant than the sun’s rays despite his depressing ways. 

“It’s imperative that they be given a special course to show their caliber as Commanders of their soon to be units, and General for Sephiroth for he is overseeing their progress.” It was impressive how much Tseng caught up on his thought process with merely glancing at him. Did he do his research on the silver male before they met in this room? Surely, they were not in speaking terms on a day to day basis. 

Maybe he was a special Black Operative that he wasn’t sure of. 

At this, Lazard smiled small, seemingly calmer than he was earlier where he was a wrangled pile of concern and frustration, fiddling with his glasses every minute. Rufus leaned back on his chair, breathing out a breath Sephiroth didn’t notice he held until it was released.

“Well, it doesn’t sound like a really big issue after all. What else do we need to discuss before we carry out this plan of ours?”

Sephiroth almost returned the smile, instead sifted through his blazer pocket for his PHS to check if his friends had given a response he missed. Knitting his brows, he placed it back. Nothing yet. He couldn’t quite understand why he was left with no reply all of a sudden. Usually, the four were more prudent in responding, or even starting conversations through their PHS due to their conflicting schedules. 

Here, it was silent. 

Sephiroth shook his head. Now was not the time for that. This current moment he had to make all arrangements to ease their troubles, they were relying on his initiative, whether they knew or not. 

And he was going to let them fall, not if he could make changes to it.

“If ShinRa was going to battle against Wutai, who’s forces were to be dispatched?”

Rufus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, eyes on the green eyed male. “I believe you, Hewley and Rhapsodos will be leading the units at that point. It should not be any time soon. My father’s working to renew the Cease-fire Agreement we’ve had with him since the war eight years ago, at the birth of the young Kisaragi.”

_So that’s how the war ended… a little child was born of Lord Godo._

“If it lapses, we will enter war before your demonstration.” Rufus’ bright eyes glowered down at him

It was a grim note, a tough pill to swallow, but one Sephiroth could not ignore.

\--

It was strange, really. 

He had never seen Kunsel refusing to hang out with him when it came to playing games or having fun in general. While having an agenda of his own, he always had time for Zack and Cloud and the other students. There was a reason why they were best friends, attached to the hip like brothers. 

If Zack needed anything, Kunsel was there for him, and it was the same for Kunsel. If he needed anything, Zack was going to race around the world to reach him. 

More than ever, things appeared so distant. First, it was with his upperclassmen who had these projects after projects, keeping their interactions minimal with their underclassman, second, even his younger friends couldn’t find the time, volunteering for positions within the Academy that kept them occupied for long hours. Cloud was holed up in his room as if he had witnessed the end of something very important to him, and Kunsel…

Kunsel was on and off with research, refusing to share any bits of information he had found anywhere. For once, Zack was in relief that he couldn’t see his eyes under the visor he had on. What if he had years of dark circles under bloodshot eyes? He was afraid to know.

Cloud was responding to his PHS, attending class every day, practiced with Angeal and he whenever they were called, as soon as activities were over, he was back in his dormitory that he shared with the raven-haired boy. Even then, he wouldn’t be chatting much with the blond who was so focused on the videos he was watching. 

By the images that were sometimes visible through his laptop screen, it appeared to be videos of his music idol who just happened to be his lover, being interviewed in peculiar music channels. Were they not contacting each other as often as they did? What kind of relationship did they hold? Zack never really had it in him to ask. Curious as heck, yes, wanting to respect his two friend’s space, oh _yes, yes please._

He would rather not know if it meant encroaching onto their personal lives. Not unless they were willing to share it.

Cloud wasn’t frowning as he stared as his screen, he wasn’t complaining or fidgeting around as he did when he was feeling troubled. In fact, he was completely drawn to the screen, to the videos as if he was talking to Genesis himself, making him laugh and telling him strange facts about having piggy banks that were skulls. 

That part he heard when Cloud had his earbuds off. His nosiness got the best of him when he questioned it one time. Cloud’s laugh was worth being a bother about it. 

Did Genesis really have piggy banks that were skulls? It was definitely not the Genesis he knew about. Sure, he was morbid as hell, dreary with his poems and overall gloomy outlook in life, and _sure,_ he had many songs that reflected this cynicism to the world and all that inhabit it.. he wasn’t without class, though. 

That lad made the shades of bright scarlet gothic. 

Anyway, Zack had been kind of… left to the side, it seemed. He would’ve been fine with it if they were happy. If Angeal could finally stop furrowing his brows, if Sephiroth would not zone out every now and then, if Genesis could cease scowling half the time, if Cloud was not keeping to himself, obsessively watching the streams, and Kunsel.. if Kunsel wasn’t remaining silent for the past week and a half. 

Just a weekend before this past one, they were elated with letting their stress go. With a small movie, ‘murdering’ each other with pillows because Angeal had so many spluttered around the room, playing video games until each of them fell asleep on the couches and bed, all seemed in harmony for just a night. 

Zack wanted to be of assistance to them, unaffected by the dreadful atmosphere that has swallowed up his friends. Finding Angeal only texting back a reassurance, he found that nothing could come from him straight up. The same case was for his little blond roommate. 

So, he had to go with the more difficult two. His little story-teller friend could wait. 

Sephiroth and Genesis refused to return his calls.

For Sephiroth, it was left on the ringer before it transferred into the answering machine, while Genesis downright rejected his call. Running a hand through his hair, he decided they were out of the question. He knew the day before they were brought into the training room to start their enlistment, but he knew they had a schedule for that even. That schedule said the evenings were not filled with lessons, according to Angeal.

That meant they were doing something else within these hours. 

“Hei Cloudy, did you get a call from Genesis?” he had to pry. If they were having problems in their relationship, in their friendship and no one was going to try and mend the patches, he would pick up the needle and thread himself. It wasn’t like the five to be so turbulent with their bonds. 

Cloud didn’t answer, watching yet another video of his idol. For a second, Zack contemplated shanking his earbuds off, then decided against it in virtue that it was cruel. Instead, he headed over to the bed and tapped his shoulder.

“Oh, Zack! What’s up?” as if he was caught doing something naughty, the little blond removed his earbuds and shut the laptop’s lid to face Zack. 

“Easy there, cowboy. I was just asking if you got a call from Genesis or something.” Golly, how he hated to interfere with their matters. How he just wanted to leave it between the two friends of his, settle things on their own accord. 

The fact that they were both his friends made it his concern. They had to understand that…

“I didn’t call him yet.. he’s so pressured by the whole enlisting thing, I didn’t want to disturb him.”

“And you watching his videos as if it was sent by the good Lord is not disturbing?” Zack bellowed a laugh, running a hand through blond spikes. Sometimes, he forgot how adorable his roommate was, so bashful and hiding the blush that erupted over his chubby cheeks. “If anything, I think Gen would appreciate you coming into his room and giving him undivided attention.”

“You think so? He’s been looking so angry, even with me.”

Then Zack had to joke a terrible one, “he’s probably horny.”

“H-horny!?” Cloud had a million-dollar expression of shock, gaping as if he was told the most taboo truth ever laid.

“Yeah, he’s probably craving some Cloud-loving!”

Was he sending a chocobo into a den of lions?

“No… I don’t think so. He had not a clue of what making out even was.” the boy’s eyes were on the curled fingers on his lap, not making a move to stop Zack from ruffling his hair. “If he doesn’t like that sort of thing, how would that help him?”

“Just because he doesn’t know doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.. did you kiss him before?” when was Zack an expert at giving relationship advice? He never was, he was merely projecting what he would try and do if he had a lover. One as adorable as his best friend.

“Yeah, when we dated the first time, we kissed a couple of times.” Cloud admitted, glancing at him with those big, beady blue eyes.

“Did he like it?”

“He said he liked it with me, but he was also unsure if he really held romantic feelings for me.” And to be honest, Cloud couldn’t disagree. There were times when he questioned his feelings, not towards Genesis, but to everyone around him. Did he want more in his circle? That… was difficult to answer. 

“If he liked it, then you should teach him the ways, Cloudy boy.” Zack rose from the side of the bed, removing his hand from his hair in favour of pointing his index finger at him, “he’s not the kind to make moves he doesn’t know about. That could very well be what’s bothering him. Stay by his side, be the reason why he calls you his friend. Love could come later.”

“To remind him why he befriended me? Yes.. how could it be so simple.. thanks Zack.” Finally, there was a true smile on his friend’s face. Small, but whole. That very sweet smile that came so rare.. that caught Zack’s heart doing backflips. “I’m really glad to talk to someone about it.”

“What are friends for?”

By the goddess, it felt so good to be the reason the boy could smile. This was how it was supposed to be. Now for the other three!

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for dropping by~ hope you have a lovely weekend. Twitter and Tumblr are both @AmareinMortis if you want to reach out.


	23. Before  the tides roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training and bonding between AGS (oh, and the two gremlins at the near end.)  
> Angeal's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- To be honest, I’m not really sure what things should go in order, it’s been spontaneous, but so full of content that is important to the story.   
> \- No room for fillers! I like to think every segment is important, it’s world and character building.

\--

Training was rigorous. 

With the fencing club, they were limited to an hour of practicing their swings and slashes, sometimes using underhanded moves to catch one another off guard when they were sparring, but this…

Each and every day, they were reminded of why they should check every direction before they took a step forward. A net could fall over their bodies, a wrong step and a bomb could detonate through the halls, alarms could sound at a misstep, if there was a voice too loud, a movement too slow or too rapid usage of techniques. 

He barely avoided the explosive that popped a couple of meters away from him, the debris flying like projectiles onto his arms as he shielded himself, booted feet shifting quickly so that he could dash, side-step the blow and roll away from the excessive smog, dust and metal chunks. His well-toned arms were sure to have bruised at this point, bashed by the walls, the fake bullets that shot rather painfully, the parry of punches and kicks that came from simulated cadets..

Angeal was growing tired as this continued. It was getting more and more strenuous as it went on. If every day had battles like these for days and nights till they dropped, he wasn’t sure how he was going to continue. 

Wiping the sweat off his chin, he positioned himself to face the ground, knees touching the deep blue surface as he pounded the metallic floor with a powerful fist, causing a mini quake to the room he was in, shaking the cadets off balance, crashing onto the ground headfirst, some on their bottoms and many on their knees. 

At the thought of protecting his friends with this strength, resolve swelled through him, coursing through his veins as determination rebirthed into him. He couldn’t give up, must not give in to the exhaustion he was feeling. He was not going to back down when his friends benefitted from this.

Besides, _he was never alone_.

A tired smirk grew to his face as soon as the fireworks of crimson heat flashed ahead of him. Flames shooting down like mini meteors blasted at the cadets, burning them out of the way efficiently, as if they were mere dart board practice. Glancing up, he caught his childhood friend up in the air, fire relentless in his hand as he jumped ahead and hurled his flame straight up. As soon as the flame met the metallic gate, it blew into millions of pieces, giving an ear-splitting loud explosion, attempting to blast them away.

Landing on his feet, Genesis stood tall, waving his hand to create a wall to keep the wreckage flying their way. Their eyes met when he turned his face slightly, sneering at him.

“Aww, tired already, Angeal? Poor poor Angeal, good thing Sephiroth’s the one handling what’s ahead.”

The boy glanced up and Angeal followed his gaze, finding Sephiroth fly past them in such a speed, it was like a phantom passed them by. The wall came down as the two watched the beautiful mix of soft silver strands and inky black surge ahead. Majestic as ever, that Sephiroth was.

And while Angeal wanted to retort back, he truly was growing exhausted. This training regime has been particularly hard on him when he still had his Academic duties and commitments to dress his life. He hasn’t been able to send his monthly letters to his mother, and that had worn him down. It was as if he only had the four friends with him as he stood, and even they were fleeting. 

So, he let it slide with a smile. 

It wasn’t the response Genesis hoped for, judging by the way his smile crumbled. There was a mumble of a curse word before the boy stood infront of him, eyes lowering into half-lids and pursing his lips together.

“Goddess, Angeal.. you’ve really got it bad this time. Look at all these bruises..” the boy’s hands came to rest on Angeal’s shoulders, compelling him to stay in his half-knelt position. His lips parted as he muttered a mantra, and the younger boy caught on a pale green light radiating from the auburn boy’s hands. 

It wasn’t as bright as he’s seen in the books. No.. unlike the bright green as grass and the stream of life illustrated, this bioluminescence was a little dim, specks of green danced around his vision as small as fireflies. It was almost shy in comparison to the brave crimson flames he emitted moments ago when he disintegrated the bombs and the soldiers attempting to kill Angeal. So shy.. and yet, it was full of the warmth that flown through the heart. It was not the heat of fire, no no.. it was the tenderness that only the heart could hold, the sensitivity of the older boy shifting into him.

It was so soft, so comforting and so very vulnerable. _So sincere.. it hurt_.

The bruises on his body, the exhaustion filling his muscles with a weight so unnecessary, the weariness of his soul at the sight of lost lives and opportunities began to dissipate into the emerald lights. The cuts began to close, the blood lost returning into his body in whimsical rhapsodies. 

“Wow…”

_This_ was the spell of healing… Truly beautiful. 

Genesis’ eyes were tender upon him, glancing at him with a ghost of a smile. His hands beginning to shift away from his shoulders as the spell started to wear off, return into the magic that Genesis held. 

“Doing better, Angy?”

“Yeah.. thanks.” He breathlessly responded, smiling in gratitude. Was Genesis trying to hone his skills in magic by expanding his boundaries? While amazing as it sounded, it did bring a sense of fear into the raven teen. It could strain his body if he hadn’t managed it well, and if he didn’t have direction, it could very well backfire.

If healing was so intimate as a loving embrace. Perhaps, the relationship he had founded with the blond underclassman was a good thing. 

While Genesis often gave himself through song and his expressive manners, it wasn’t in such a way where he shed himself with it. Naturally, he let himself be held without truly giving himself to the other. How he let Sephiroth hold him so tight, how he ran his hands through soft bangs, or played with Angeal, while he didn’t divide his attention elsewhere, they could never see the innermost soul of his. 

That little one that brought them to him in the first place. 

“Let’s catch up with Seph.” 

Angeal rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his military uniform with a nod, and the two raced ahead.

When they entered the second gate, they were met with a smile of the silver haired male.

“You both caught on alright?” The demure sweetness of his tone in direct contrast to his powerful stance had Angeal smiling back, hoping he returned the tenderness without a word. 

Sephiroth appearing so comfortable, so natural in his surrounding was refreshing as the healing spell Genesis casted a while back. It may have not removed external wounds, that he couldn’t deny. The internal wounds he possibly suffered from? Oh definitely. Every day with his friends restored the rues of yesterday, brimming him with hope for tomorrow. 

Genesis took a bold step forward, raising his head in Sephiroth’s direction, sentiment mutual with them in his own intrinsic way. Angeal caught the older boy’s pace quicken, charging at the silver teen whose eyes were on Rapier that pointed to him. 

“Genesis, what’re you—” before he could ask, he found that the blade passed by Sephiroth’s shoulder. Moreover, behind him. To a metallic drone that was making an attempt for Sephiroth’s head. 

To this, the silver teen only snickered. “Whoops.”

“Did you catch on alright without us?” he returned, purring in the way he did when he was in a good mood.

It was when his arm was stretched, thrusting Rapier into that drone behind Sephiroth that Angeal caught on cotton sleeves. Under his military uniform that had no sleeves, Genesis donned a shirt under his. It was thin and black, yet something told him it was customized to be magic resistant as their outfit was. 

It perfectly covered what was nearly revealed to the public as the cruel scar his best friend gave for wishing to preserve his innocence. The last of it, for Sephiroth was no stranger to shedding blood and dancing under the rain of it. 

“Doesn’t appear as I have..” Sephiroth responded a moment after, when the crimson blade shifted from his shoulder and returned to the boy’s back, green eyes staring as if it was a demon. “Only use it when necessary, Genesis.”

Genesis raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“No..” Sephiroth’s eyes glanced ahead of them, turning away from the two, “excuse _me.”_

“He just means don’t swing your sword carelessly.” Angeal supported, knowing fully well why the youngest of the trio had that mentioned. He wasn’t taunting Genesis, he wasn’t undermining his strength, definitely not reprimanding him as the weakest link.

He was making sure Genesis does not push himself too far. And Angeal could not disagree with the sentiment. 

That single blow must’ve shook flares of pain through his shoulder, no longer having the full capability to carry heavy objects for a length of time, to unleash a force that it could not hold. Of course, the auburn boy would never, for the love of the goddess, admit to this, Angeal could sense it in the slight disbalance that shuddered through his thinner body. The gnashing of his teeth not due to anger, but because of the flash of soreness. 

It was only a matter of time. A matter of time Angeal nor Sephiroth wanted to be a part of. 

If it occurred on a stage performance, they would deem it reasonable, but not when they were in the battlefield. For they knew Genesis wanted in on this, completely. Truly, madly deeply do. They were not going to chain him down and lock him in his room for that. 

Genesis huffed in answer. 

Angeal’s eyes caught on the elongated blade of Masamune pierce through the wall ahead of them, detonating the mechanism implanted within it. It didn’t explode, so it was not a bomb, at least. For once in this week, Angeal has had enough of those irritating explosives. There were so many, it was as if they were in a Michael Bay movie. 

The thrust tore through the simulation. The surroundings cracked around them, returning them to the training room within minutes. Each pixel broke apart, dissipating like a matrix of green and blue, soon into nothingness. As the surroundings began to fade, the training floor became more and more visible. The three were standing right in the middle of the large ring. 

Sephiroth rested Masamune on his back, and Genesis closed his eyes, covering his mouth as he stifled a yawn. The technicians added a number to the red lights on the gate.

“You three cleared level 42! Very well done.” They praised, “as expected of the Crescent unit.”

“’Of the Crescent unit’.. golly, hear yourselves talk sometimes?” Genesis retorted, rolling his opened eyes. Angeal snickered. If he was going to roll his eyes, might as well keep it shut. The boy’s eyes flickered to Sephiroth who smiled at them, “ _there is no hate, only joy. For you are beloved by the goddess. Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds..”_

“LOVELESS, again..? You never change.” There was no irritation in his statement, smile fond as his eyes hovered to his friend.

It filled Angeal’s heart with happiness to share this moment with his friends, where all was a triumph after the tides of trepidation almost drowned them in a desolate flood. There wasn’t anything that they had before that they no longer. Nothing was lost, it merely changed from one form to another. 

Sephiroth, Angeal and Genesis were closer than ever. More than he could ever imagine. 

“Goddess.. let’s leave this place. I, for one, can’t wait to get out of this stupid uniform.” Genesis complained, spreading his arms as far as they could go before resting a hand on his mouth as he yawned a second time. Angeal had to agree with the idea of resting some time soon. He raised his arms in the air to stretch out the weary muscles.

“Let’s.” Sephiroth beckoned with a small hand gesture, Angeal echoed the statement. 

“Yeah, _let’s mosey_.” 

Genesis gave him an odd look before following Sephiroth who left first. 

\--

After much needed showers, the three met together in Angeal’s dormitory. They’ve long changed out of their military uniform into comfortable garbs, Genesis settling for a flowy white ruffled poet shirt and a black vest, Sephiroth donning a jade green scarf over a black tee that had a sarcastic, ‘witty caption goes here’, and Angeal in a purple long-sleeved shirt with a funny black and white dog picture, exclaiming “bork bork!”. 

Genesis yawned for the third time as he and Sephiroth entered the kitchen to assist Angeal with dinner. He was in no state to scold them for their nerves deciding to retire for the night, even his were very close to doing that. 

Training was becoming cumbersome. A lot of courses to undergo in a short time, it was wearing them down quite a bit. Even Sephiroth was showing signs of much needed sleep. The rings around his eyes naturally grey were darker, marking the loss of rest he had with this tasking schedule they were shoe-horned in. 

They had an example to show.. it was starting to get foolish. If Genesis was not going to make a bad statement about it, Angeal was sure that he was going to do it in his place. It’s getting to _that_ point. 

“We’re going to do a demonstration in a month.” Sephiroth commented, chopping cucumbers with a knife on a small brown wooden board. As one who was expert with the blades, it took less than five seconds for him to make perfect cuts to the vegetable without even glancing at it.

“What kind?” it must’ve been something discussed within the Student Council.

If Angeal had to be honest, everything regarding that group was a mystery. There was nothing that they addressed that made it to the public without filters, without changing the context that would otherwise fit the school policy. Sephiroth was the Secretary to the Council, that had him privy to a good half of the information shared there—he probably wrote most the reports that were issued onto the paper. 

“We’re going to be tested in three different areas. It’s to show our skills individually, for us to become Captains of our own Units.”

Genesis turned the stove on as he glanced at the silver teen, irritation as obvious as an elephant in the room. “We’ve done like… three of those already. What _more_ do they need to see?”

“It’s obvious that there’s another plan under it, isn’t it?” Sephiroth smiled wryly, meeting his eyes. Angeal then followed the auburn boy’s gaze. “We’re planning an event for a couple of early retirement cases for a good half of the staff. This demonstration would keep their eyes on us.”

“You’re not going to kill them… are you?” the oldest of the three carefully chose his words, hand ghosting to his right shoulder. “I don’t really care if they die.. as long as it’s not by your hand.”

_“My friend, the fates are cruel,”_ he quoted LOVELESS with a little grin, earning raised brows from Angeal, “but it’s not that cruel. President Rufus is thinking of calling these soldiers from a deeper level of the ShinRa Academy. They’re ranks higher than us and been in the battlefield longer than I.”

“I could’ve sworn they would’ve commissioned you to do it.” Genesis warily replied, the breath of relief evident and unmissed, and long after gaping at Sephiroth for a reference of his favourite book.

“I have to agree with Genesis. I am glad they hadn’t left it to you.”

The grin straightened before his lip was gnawed upon, “that’s because I’ve already made that mistake. They do not trust me to do a clean job.”

Genesis and Angeal shared a wince. It was by chance they didn’t assign such tasks to Sephiroth, to mark him as someone incapable of precise work was a blow hard to his speciality. What more of value were they going to strip away from him? While they were in relief that he was not bearing that burden, they couldn’t deny the insult that bit too deep. 

They couldn’t imagine how Sephiroth felt about that. He barely understood his own feelings. 

“Genesis, Angeal, do you intend to invite Strife and Fair over?” To their disappointment, Sephiroth made a quick shift of subject, unwilling to linger upon it. While it was not the most pleasant of topics, it was one that was going to bother the boy for a long time if he left it unspoken. 

“I should. Cloudy must be missing me by now.” Genesis rolled along with it, smiling so fakely, it was almost insulting. Angeal knew he was disappointed in both Sephiroth and the faculty for giving him this impression, for laying him out as a failure, an incapable fool. 

He couldn’t help but feel the same. 

“Zack would like that; he’s been requesting that we spend more time together before we are dispatched.” He conceded, making a quick motion of throwing cubes of garlic and ginger within the pot of water on the stove. 

He wondered if the auburn teen knew he was dumping loads of spices within the mixture of what was becoming their soup. The way he opened little bottles after another, chucking spoons full had him think he didn’t. And Angeal was not going to correct him. If this was the way he was going to learn not to be mindful of others, he was going to make him take the fall alone.

Sephiroth’s eyes were sharp on the oldest boy, causing Angeal to jump, glance at him with wide eyes. 

They didn’t get the chance to talk as often as they did before, that was his primary reason for calling the two over to his room. Genesis had his own agenda that he wasn’t too concerned with, concluding that his rather cross demeanor came with being unable to hold in the stress that his clubs were piling him with. 

He wasn’t burning the place, so that much Angeal could breathe easy with.

Sephiroth on the other hand, seemed to shut down completely. For him to retreat far into the crevices of his mind only blared bad news. Did he read something that had turned his mood to the negativity for good? Was it something they missed the reason for his scrutinizing glare?

What had him swallow a nervous lump in his throat was how Genesis completely ignored it, usually not the kind to like eyes leering at him for long. He was more of the one who’d start a quip of some sort to break the concentration. Currently, he allowed Sephiroth’s eyes to tear him open without meeting it. 

Did they fight earlier?

It couldn’t be… he was right with them in the training room and they were alright, peachy even. Unironically. By the way those light blue eyes were stuck on the pot that was boiling under the pressure of the stove’s heat, it was very much possible he hadn’t taken note of Sephiroth’s eyes upon him. 

The three were exhausted, to say the least. To be like an unsharpened pencil made sense. The grogginess had them unable to channel their senses well enough to observe their surroundings. 

“I’ll call Kunsel as well. Cloud and Zack are really close to him.” As Angeal began to text on his PHS, he heard a rugged tap of the wooden ladle Genesis held. “Y’good, Gen?”

“Yeah..” if that was the case, why did he appear as if he was caught red-handed or something? “just flicking the stuff off the spoon.”

“The ladle.” He corrected with a wan smile. The boy huffed, eyes still lingering. Unsure how to address it, he added it to his list to ignore. 

They prepared their dinner in the silence that formed. Angeal couldn’t find it in him to fight the sphere they were fitted into. He couldn’t find the will to pry into matters that would open the floodgate they were guarded from. It was not the best course of action while they were under a low battery state of mind. 

Any bad move and his dormitory will become what they do to the gymnasium—which was the old training hall for them. He didn’t want to take a risk he couldn’t bear the consequences to. 

The only existence that tore through their reverie were the knocks on his door. Thanking all existing deities, he raced over to answer it. 

He was greeted by an excited Zack who threw his arms around his shoulders, nuzzling adorably on his chest, and Cloud who shied in behind him, smiling as he extended his arms to give the upperclassman a little bag.

“I thought of bringing some ice-cream.” He commented in lieu of greeting, and Angeal returned the soft smile.

“Sweet, thank you, Cloud. Could you help me get the pup off?” Zack must’ve been part-magnet that he didn’t come off no matter how much he pushed him back. It didn’t bother him per se, it was rather comforting to have someone as excitable as he in his dormitory that took a good turn into gloom and doom. 

He wasn’t able to welcome them into the room with Zack in tow. 

“C’mon Zack, I want to come inside…” he muttered, tapping the boy on his shoulder. The raven boy dressed in a dark blue tank top and baggy black shorts, a vast contrast to the baby blue that dressed Cloud. His loose turtleneck had the pattern of clouds in the sky, early in the morning. Under it were pants as dark as midnight, as breathable as his shirt. 

“Right!” Zack hopped off, allowing Angeal to step to the side. “Sorry about that.. I get all giddy every time Angeal calls us here.”

“I understand completely.” Cloud’s smile grew warmer, glancing at his friend. Kunsel didn’t seem to show up this time… 

“Is Kunsel coming in soon?” Angeal asked as he directed them to the kitchen, not wanting to shut the door only to find their mysterious friend waiting. 

“Oh yeah, he couldn’t make it.” Zack replied, peeking from the kitchen doorway, “he said he’s busy with an overdue assignment.”

“An overdue assignment?” Angeal raised a brow, closing the door and returning to the kitchen, “he doesn’t seem like the kind to leave things to the last minute.”

“He must’ve gotten something last minute. He’s always a step ahead of me in studies.” The raven boy agreed, running a hand on his neck, “for all I know, he could be doing homework that we’ll get in the future.”

Angeal missed the hard stare emitting from Genesis. 

“I heard he’s applying to be a teacher’s assistant.” Cloud added, earning a spoonful of the soup they were cooking. Lover privileges, the upperclassman supposed, “and the soup tastes delicious.”

“Assisting his peers of the same grade, that lad has a strong heart, and an intelligent mind.” Angeal couldn’t help but praise, amazed that the students that were once juniors were growing up fast, resolute and honourably. “If he needs help, tell him we’re available for that.”

“He means only he’s available. If some cheeky runt asks _me_ for help, they have to be ready for a flat-out _no_.” Genesis sneered, stretching his good arm to keep Zack at a distance. The poor boy was dejected for being denied of a hug from his upperclassman. By the looks of it, he was the only one who refused, despite having Cloud right by his side. 

“You didn’t refuse Strife, so I’d think you’re lying.” Sephiroth countered, smiling in what felt like eternities after. “See where it has gotten you.”

“He’s my little boyfriend, that’s different.”

“He wasn’t your boyfriend the first time you met him..” the silver teen’s smile grew as his teeth bore; ill-intention clear as day. “Too soft to abandon people younger than you, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.. but that’s not true!” 

Angeal tapped a finger on his chin, suddenly noticing that.. that is true. Genesis was the oldest in their friend group, and he’s been kind with each of them for most point. In fact, he couldn’t offer an example of an older friend he had. Group mates were not friends, otherwise they would be in this dormitory right now, or Genesis would be texting them all day. 

“ _Infinite in mystery…?”_ Sephiroth trailed on, waving his hand in circles. Genesis in turn, pursed his lips to a corner, pouting.

“ _Is the gift of the goddess.”_ He finished, eyes darting to the ceiling as his cheeks dusted rosily. 

It was amusing to see a flip of a switch moment occur. Just a couple of minutes ago, the silence was so dense and full of unspoken tension, Angeal wondered when someone was going to bust a gut, make an outburst or some exclamation that was going to thicken the intensity of nerves within the room. With the appearance of the younger two, that atmosphere clicked a different setting.

If this is what they were able to accomplish just by their presences, he should call them more often. 

“I bet you guys are hungry, let’s have dinner.” He beckoned the four to the dinner table, Sephiroth already present as he was setting the plates onto it. As Angeal was setting the contents of their food into bowls and serving trays, Genesis had the treat Cloud gave placed in the freezer below the refrigerator. 

It was probably best off that they left Zack seated near the silver teen. He wasn’t foolish, just a little too eager to assist, prone to accidents. 

They chatted idly as they ate. And while this was only adding more under the rug that had been filled to the rim, with him feigning innocence where the five needed to face reality, tonight Angeal Hewley was no rational man. He was ready to drift into slumber, freshen himself for another day. It was not yet time for bringing it to the table to address. 

They could begin “talking” when it didn’t appear as though he was going to behead a friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend.


	24. To safeguard love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angeal’s POV. BanoraShipping in this one!  
> Fluffy, and kind of angsty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Angeal has a serenading air, at least when I am writing it out.  
> \- Um, I think the only change in this, like a tiny change is that I have become very fond of Genesis as an asexual character. He would engage in sexual acts, but not as his biggest priority, not because of a sexual attraction, merely because his friends like it. Naturally, he wouldn't. He likes to tease.  
> \- The fact that he’s become a bit more calculative compared to the first 10 chapters was not intentional, but it’s great! It really feels in character.

**\--**

They had a month.

A month may have sounded like a long time when waiting for a surprise, a birthday, some gift that was sought ages for. A month was about 30 days of lengthy 24 hours if there were no plans to go along with it. 30 long Academic days of studies, daily expenditure, and cherished moments. 

To Angeal, it was too short. A month was not enough for them to showcase their skills and be part of the army. They may have had training since they were promoted to their college levels, but there were new conditions to consider. Angeal was no stranger to the fact that his friends were not adjusting to it well. 

While Sephiroth was the most well-rounded in regard to battle, his sanity was in question. The raven-haired male made no mistake in noticing the shudder his childhood friend couldn’t hold back when his smile turned grim. There was an unsettled bloodlust that overtook him each time his blade was cradled in his hand. If it was hunger for battle, it made full sense. It was what he knew best. If he was the kind to enjoy a good fight, Angeal and Genesis would try to give all to him. 

Sephiroth was closing himself off. There was something within him that they couldn’t reach, no matter how much they searched within. 

No… it wasn’t as though he was pushing them away from him. The silver-haired male was in fear, he was afraid of what he couldn’t understand. They couldn’t attain answers for he himself had not the knowledge to elaborate. 

If they wanted to help him, they had to figure it out on their own, leave no secrets. 

He couldn’t rely on Genesis since he was a state very similar. It was as if he was told a secret too many, he was barely keeping it together. On the surface, to one who didn’t know him well, it was a perfect veil. No one ever knew what that haughty boy was thinking, what he felt for he had displayed the opposite of what ran through his mind. Angeal and Sephiroth knew him well enough to see through that transparent cloth, that shroud that could not hold their job for it had been pierced many, many times.

Yet, the raven male couldn’t break those barriers that he saw surrounding his friends. 

It was all in front of him, so obvious it was painful to pretend nothing was going on. It was infuriating that he could only stand by them and smile, hoping they would do the same. One of his friends was nearing the end of his career, no way was he going to sit there and watch it happen. If it meant he had to go above his body’s capabilities to keep his friends safe, he was willing to go through all the lengths to ensure it. 

Nothing was going to stop him if it meant they were going to keep their smile. 

He had to try. He had to keep going, break the limit that he had on his body. He was physically the strongest in the team, it was the factor he could emphasize. It was imperative that he shield his friends, his comrades, his brothers-in-arms, no matter how his body tired, how it felt sore with training and strain, no matter how he was ready to fall any second. He had to become stronger, so strong that he would never crumble.

“ _My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.”_ The loud clack of a heel tapping the ground sounded, and the blue-eyed male shifted, glancing from the black leather boots to his friend’s face who stared down at him, eyebrow raised, bothered. “Angeal, just how long are you going to be training in here?”

“Just a bit more, Genesis.” He answered, smiling wryly. The boy’s brows furrowed, now glaring.

“You’ve been cooped up in here, stinking this place up with sweat for days and nights. Don’t you think it’s enough?” he complained, seething visibly as he stepped away from him. 

They were in the gymnasium, which was incidentally Angeal’s club room for the space and the necessity of range. Currently, he was on his three thousandth push-up, something that was a little too early to call quits upon. His normal routine involved sit-ups, crunches, squats that he had shown Zack and Cloud to do since they were quite eager to learn. These days, he has been doing twice the workouts to compensate for his teammates who are at a disadvantage. 

It wasn’t their fault that was the case. 

Bending his elbows, he rested on the ground as he watched Genesis head away from him, with a huff escaping him. His eyes followed the boy’s path, before closing as a fluffy white towel was thrown on his head.

“Holing yourself in a space where no one would follow.. a classic coping mechanism.” Angeal couldn’t help but sheepishly grin as the older male glared down at him, “what is it that’s eating you this much?”

“I don’t think you want to know, Gen. It’s stupid.”

The heat in the room began to increase, higher and higher than what he was feeling due to his exercise. 

Shooooot.. he was really upsetting Genesis with this. Why? He didn’t quite get. He was doing this for _him,_ and Sephiroth. If it was a matter of pride, he should be able to swallow it up for there was nothing he could do to combat what the future held. 

“Get up,” he ordered, seething. When Angeal raised a brow, he repeated, “get up, Angeal Hewley!”

Finding himself not wanting to deal with a trigger-happy Genesis, he lifted himself from the ground, only to sit criss-cross on the blue bumpy, cushioned mats. Genesis crossed his arms, glaring at him expectantly, tapping his feet for a good measure. As if giving an excuse, he ran the towel around his sweat-ridden face and dark hair. 

The auburn male went against his assumption when he knelt, resting his hands on his knees that reached his chest. As he was at his level, Angeal was able to see the lingering sorrow under his glare that softened, bright blue eyes shifting low. He wasn’t upset at Angeal for having a need to become stronger, he was disappointed that _he was being careless like he should be._

Knowing the limits to the strength was Angeal’s foundation. He knew where he stood, where he couldn’t reach, he wouldn’t commence foolish actions that would only serve as a hindrance. 

Being “stupid” was Genesis’ job. 

It was oft a surprise how much those eyes spoke in place of his flowered poems and morbid parables. The windows to his soul were so visible, it was a vast contrast to Sephiroth’s whose words were direct, but his eyes were so veiled, so shy. Genesis’ heart was so open, it was why Angeal made a home within it. 

Now, more than ever he felt the need to retreat, even if there were guest occupying it.

“ _My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honour remains.”_ It was only when the boy’s right hand came to rest on the top of his damp head that he noticed a black brace over his shoulder. The black pauldron-like piece extended up to his breast, supported by a thick stretchable strap that went over the left side of his torso, over his crisp white billowed shirt. He wasn’t given a sling for the arm was still in proper function, just dull aches disabling perfect movement for extended bouts of time. 

The boy never seen his friend ever wear that before. It must’ve meant he was in a lot of pain. His poor, sweet childhood friend was writhing in agony all night and they turned a blind-eye on it. Instead of going to his room and checking on him as they should’ve, they left silly messages on a PHS that might as well been dead. 

There’s no telling if he read them. It’s very possible Genesis believes no one cares for him. 

“There should be some honour in my desire… the whole gift of the goddess, so you say.” If there was no honour, there was nothing to live for. “Unless you forgot you said that earlier.”

Judging by how the auburn boy blinked once, then again, and another time, the freight train came to a halt. 

“If you keel over and die pointlessly, where is the honour in that?” he merely asked, frowning.

“I won’t die that easily..” Angeal reasoned, only receiving a roll of Genesis’ eyes. 

“Keep this up, you will.” What was it that kept his friend so.. subdued? Why wasn’t he snapping insults? Speaking ill words that he wouldn’t naturally utter for his prestigious upbringing? “Change up in the shower room, I’ll wait.”

The tranquil fury that he showed only when he was particularly concerned… Angeal really messed up, didn’t he? Times like these, it was better to deal with the boy who tried to burn the entire room with a splay of flames and rage. When he silenced the beast, it meant he was giving the other space to unleash their inner ugliness.

Genesis was aware that he was mulling over too many things at once. That the garbage under the rug needed to be cleared out before their demonstration that sealed their fates. And by the goddess, he hated it when his friend caught on details too fast. 

Zack, Sephiroth nor Cloud noticed his seclusion. They shrugged it off as something he did often when it came to personal training. He had to tame himself before he could ever think of taming someone else, and they shared that delusion. 

It never went past Genesis. The only reason why he didn’t address it was because of his own troubles. Or he waited for him to be upfront about it. 

For him to approach Angeal instead told enough of how the former belief was not going to work. 

With a small nod and a wry smile, the raven male headed to the door near the double doors of the entrance where the change room was. 

**\--**

As he freshened himself, changing out of his black tank and grey yoga pants to a grass green hoodie that had an illustration of a forest over his uniform shirt and black dress pants, he returned to the large room. And true to his word, Genesis was present, currently seated on the first row of the rather uncomfortable bleachers. The boy’s attention didn’t shift from the book in his hand, and the pen scribbling as he shifted closer, tapping the paper. 

With how concentrated he seemed, so tuned out of the world that was not his page, Angeal figured he was writing a song. Perhaps, that was why he was able to keep his unchained anger at bay. It was placating to write the innermost feelings in words that do not express it, in rhymes and dwindling notes of wind instruments and strings, of serenades of treble and bass. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Gen.” when the pen ceased movement, and when Genesis’s eyes drifted to their feet, he found it alright to address him. The creative song writing process had finished, after all. 

He was greeted with a lopsided smile.

“Mother Nature’s son should’ve been written about you.” He started, eyeing the lovely, lush forest of his hooded sweater. “Don’t tell Gillian I said that, though. She might get jealous.”

Angeal couldn’t help but laugh. His Mum growing envious of the provider of vegetation taking her son that fed both each and every day? She would be more than honoured to surrender him to such a generous existence. 

“Let’s go to my room, ‘kay?” placing the books back into a cross-body bag, the older male stood up, proceeding to step away without the need of Angeal’s approval of the matter. Why wouldn’t he? Genesis was his first friend, his bestest in the Planet, he didn’t need to vocalize his agreement. If anything, it was better than _pleading_ to hang out with him.

With a warmer smile, the younger boy followed him.

“Did you meet up with Sephiroth on the way here?” the raven male started as they trudged through the halls. 

“Yeah.. I put that idiot to sleep.” He grumbled in response, eyes on the ceiling lights that shifted further away from them as he proceeded. 

“Did he not sleep the night?”

When was Angeal going to learn not to ask questions he didn’t want answers for?

“He complained that I didn’t answer my PHS so he couldn’t sleep.” And when was he going to be able to pardon Genesis’ dismissive behaviour to it. One glance at the brace on his shoulder and it ended any chance of retorting back. Genesis was in a lot of pain, so much that he couldn’t lift his arm for a good day. 

Damn that Heidegger..

Angeal should know best how Genesis’ body was not the strongest in the field. While he was swift and delivered extremely well, his defenses were horrifying. That was why he was bulking himself up, so that if he was in the frontlines, he could have his childhood friend’s back. 

Sephiroth’s as well, yes.. if he required it so. 

“I shouldn’t ask why you didn’t answer.” He asked in a manner that sounded like a statement.

“Unlike you, I can’t check on others when I’m not doing well.”

Angeal regretted being the reason Genesis smiled in a rueful sentiment. 

The silence stayed for a bit longer, save for the clacks of their boots on the marble tiled floor. The raven male’s eyes leered down his friend who didn’t show a sign of being bothered by the awkward quiet atmosphere they had created. He couldn’t mask his surprise at how Genesis of all people was trying to keep things good between them. That wasn’t in his department to do; him being remarkably similar to their silver haired friend.

They couldn’t really put a good word on what they were feeling and what they needed. 

“So, are you going to talk, or are you going to be all broody like Seph?” Genesis tore him from his reverie, eyes roaming to him. “It’s obvious you are worried about something.”

“It’s complicated,” Angeal didn’t want to place the burden on his injured friend. He never wanted to keep leaning on his narrow shoulders that barely carried himself. It was going to cause the poor boy to explode someday. “I’m just a little troubled, ‘s all.”

“Well, anyone with eyes could see that..” turning to the hall to the left, they picked up the pace to arrive to his dormitory in short time. They didn’t want to waste more time spilling information that was safely tucked in themselves to the public where they were watched by millions. 

When they were away from the multitude of surveillance cameras and into the dormitory wing, Genesis spared no second to rummage through his bag for the keycard they were given. Once he slid it and inputted a code, the crimson painted door clicked open, and the two stepped inside. 

The room was the same as it appeared before; splayed with instruments to the right side, across the telly that stood on the left wall with a couple of silver recliners and couches, each of them complimenting the deep wine-red walls.. In the corner between the two walls was an old, dark brown Grandfather Clock. Tables and shelves holding a multitude of books that seemed to pile more and more with the passage of time. A change was how he parted the large lounging space by a good quarter, the previous doorway to the restroom now having another door where he presumed Genesis’ bed was. 

It was a wide, open space as it was closed off, with cubicles after cubicles. The kitchen was past behind the wall that the telly leaned upon, the wall opposite to the room door having a small balcony. So very similar to his own friend.. so open and expressive, only to wrap himself in secrets that were so tight, he couldn’t break the binds. 

That troubled him. He loved Genesis, he cared beyond the conventional care that casual friends had. They were brothers, not only in arms, but soulfully. They were connected through their loneliness, through their outcast character, but now.. after four years, Genesis has started to become his own. 

It was as if Angeal was no longer necessary to him. When was the last time Genesis had confided something very important to him? Before his shoulder wound.. to be exact. After that… they were still friends, for no one could deny that the auburn boy would flaunt the raven male’s admiration of him to all. It still meant something, didn’t it?

His childhood friend was somewhere he couldn’t follow. Just how far could he drift away? Why did it feel like he was going to say goodbye very soon?

A hand reached for his as he found the auburn male smiling small at him, pulling him to the smaller compartment of the dormitory. Blinking, he allowed to be led by the older boy, concluding that the least he could do for him is comply with his small requests.

“Alright, you could start with answering me if you slept enough.” Angeal raised a brow. Wasn’t he the one who should be asking the questions here and Genesis giving him answers?

“I should ask you that.”

“I asked first. How about this? I ask, then you get a turn.” The boy quite so limply fell on the spacious double bed, his arms stretched to his friend in invitation, “so answer.”

Angeal couldn’t find it in him to lie. “I have to admit, I’ve been having trouble sleeping at the thought of us going out to war.”

“Why?”

The younger boy made his way to sit beside the laying male, waving a finger in disapproval, smiling coyly. Genesis was breaking his rules already? For shame, for shame, my friend. “Oh no, you don’t get to ask that, it’s my turn, remember?”

“Right, ask..” Genesis rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, the smile on his face reassuring the raven male that perhaps, it wasn’t as bad as his mind made it out to be. 

“What happened within these four years that you kept away from us?”

“Lots of things.” He should’ve known the boy was going to keep his answers vague, “my turn, why are you afraid of us going to war?”

Pools of despair and woe that overridden his confidence, pride stripping away like feathers off a majestic wing. He met his friend’s eyes, wishing that was enough to satisfy his query. The small widen of his friend’s eyes showed it was.

“Go ahead, ask something else, Ang’.” He murmured, shifting his gaze to the curtains that dressed around his bed. Finding the boy shyly glance away, Angeal curled closer to himself, resting his forearms on his knees. 

“A couple of days ago, I recall Sephiroth telling me something of a promise you made… what is that?”

For a moment, Genesis couldn’t supress a tremble. 

“I… I can’t answer that.” The shiver wasn’t for the fact that the two friends of his knew, rather, it seemed as though he had to force it right back in him. He was so ready to spill it all. “That’s part of the promise.”

Angeal couldn’t hold back a frown. If he was going to the ‘nth degree to keep his word, he might as well not pry. He was a man of honour and discipline, he was not an inquisitor, an instigator of violence. 

“Angeal, why are you holding yourself back?” Through peripherals, he seen Genesis’ light eyes roam to him, thin and almost weak arms reaching for him. Unsure what he wished to obtain, he let his eyes meet his. 

“I need an elaboration on that.” It was becoming more difficult not to bundle him up in his embrace. He didn’t blame Cloud for getting to his core and promising eternity. It might’ve been what Genesis sought all this time. To see his smile soften when the little boy was by his side, the glances that were once upon Angeal transferred to the sweet child. 

He hated to admit it, the honourable man that he was, he was envious of what the blond had with his childhood friend. He knew the auburn male first, and yet this young boy succeeded in what he couldn’t. Cloud must’ve been why Genesis didn’t seem to need Angeal anymore. 

Angeal couldn’t steal from his best friend, no matter how much he did with others. To sustain himself, his Mum, and even his friend in a form indescribable. That resistance to take what was his… made him lose it. 

“Come here, Angeal.” What a gentle tone he used, so tender and rare from Genesis, even with Angeal. It was that same one that pleaded him to help save Sephiroth, that shaken child that Angeal missed after these days of still solemnity. It may not be something anyone had noticed, especially not the younger fellows, but Angeal did find that after the incident with the Headmaster those years ago, something may have died within Genesis. 

All caught up in gazing at his older friend, he missed the fact that he didn’t comply with his request. For that, he found Genesis tilt his head, cerise lips forming a little smile. “Just… come here.”

Angeal’s body so weary from the overextended training and strain, he couldn’t hold his ground any longer. If there was anything he believed Genesis wanted right now, was for him to loosen up. It wasn’t as though he was going to hurt his auburn friend.

Refusal would.

Once again, he complied with what his tired, exhausted body wanted, leaning back and allowing the slightly older friend to run his thin hands along his shoulders, firm even under the soft hoodie and pull him down. When his head landed on the plush surface, he wished to rest upon it forever. It was so very comfortable as Genesis was, the one boy he could entrust his heart to. 

To those who would laugh at that statement, Angeal would claim that they did not know his friend the way he does. 

“Good.. now my dear, lay it all out on me. What is it that troubles you so?” It felt so wrong to receive such gentle caresses from his friend knowing he had to reserve that for his little lover now. Before, it wasn’t the case. With Sephiroth, with Angeal, it used to be theirs, but now… now, his heart was chained to another, given voluntarily to a small cherub who was able to accomplish what the raven male could never. 

He should’ve known Genesis was the kind who waited to be approached. 

Their eyes spoke as it did every time, refusing to confront anything else but those blue. Gazing into those sky blues, Angeal was told he would have it no other way. They would always be the two friends under the grooved orchard of Banora White, two who could never be separated no matter how hard one would pull the strings. 

Genesis would always return to Angeal if Angeal couldn’t. 

“What’s bothering me..?”

Oh golly, where could he start? All of it seemed to center around the auburn boy. He’s always hoped that Genesis would be the last person he’d confront in relation to these matters, and yet..

Here he was, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s waist, raising a hand to curl upon the short ends of his hair, fiery bright. Radiant as his friend, and a beautiful contrast to his own that was darker than the midnight sky. In fact, almost every feature was a splay of differences from Angeal. Pale and rosy to Angeal’s healthy, unblemished tan, figure hollow and lithe to his tall, broad and perfectly chiseled. If Angeal was as handsome as a Roman statue, then Genesis was pretty like a fox. 

“You’re hurt..”

When the auburn boy didn’t respond with anything visible nor audible, the raven male ran a hand near the brace on his shoulder. 

“I know you forgave him, I said the same at that time..” goddess, he was a horrible friend. The one who should be leaving him unforgiven was the wounded boy himself, and here, Angeal was deeming Sephiroth’s deed to be too heinous for a pardon. “It’s been years since it happened anyway.”

“Angeal.. _Angeal no_.” his voice trembled.

“I shouldn’t be thinking this way… why am I blaming him for something he didn’t intend to do? He didn’t want to hurt you, and yet.. he took _us_ away.”

Genesis’ hands tightened slightly around the fabric of his sweater’s bicep. It was beginning to feel as though a dam was going to burst inside of him. They shared a promise to rise up the ranks as heroes, they were going to face all thick and thin together, each of them back to back with Sephiroth a little step ahead for his prowess. 

The problem was… Genesis acquired a wound on his right shoulder, that was what he trained with, he was certainly not ambidextrous. None of the three were, not even Sephiroth. Their non-dominant hand was used for spell work with or without Materia or support. 

If the auburn boy were to start using his left hand from now on, he would be several ranks lower than the two. He would be demoted, or better yet, removed altogether. He couldn’t use the right arm for support for too long, it was only within time that it was going to wear down and become only a writing tool (because it took less pressure). 

Maybe not even. 

The fact that he was writing with his left hand did not pass Angeal by. 

“This the lack of sleep talking, telling you things you don’t truly believe in.” As Angeal’s eyes closed, he felt the soft strands of his friend’s hair come to rest upon his chest, forehead rubbing the place where his heart was, “that’s not the Angeal way.”

“What _is_ the Angeal way?” how alien it sounded, how out of place it felt… just who was he?

“You’re supposed to stop me from being stupid or impulsive.” 

“But impulse control even has its moments where it goofs off, no?” Genesis was not always a fool, he had better words for those who were as lost as he was. There was a reason why so many connected to his musical work. Angeal has seen them as he passed through the halls at times, the fanclubs that were not only made for the three, but also that alter-ego of his. 

“That’s the point, you’re tired.” Angeal felt the boy’s mutters more than he heard it. “I jumped in his way, that’s why it’s come to this.”

“I..” the poor raven-haired male’s arms tightened around his older yet smaller friend, “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I could forgive Sephiroth for this. We were supposed to be a team, we succeed and fail together, not like how it did.”

“You talk as if I’m going to die..” the hushed tone had a seethe, “if there’s anyone to blame, it’s the goddamn doctors who inject us with junk that doesn’t do its job right.”

“Doctors Hollander and Hojo?”

“Yeah, they were supposed to heal this whole thing and they shrugged it off.”

He has a point. They were injected with the serum to avoid egregious injuries in the first place, if Genesis has a wound that cannot be healed, then they have falsely advertised facts, endangering their lives. 

And that is completely dishonourable. 

“I’m going to make them pay…” Anger welled his system, shaky muscles clenching uncomfortably, loosening only when he heard a wince from his friend. If he didn’t know better, he could squash him like a lemon without effort. 

“I know, Seph and I are trying very hard not to burn them right away.” While forced, there was a giggle in his tone. Angeal must’ve been wearing him down with it. The light caress on his arms had the raven male sigh happily. Times like these, it felt like they were made for each other. Soulmates having their last dance before they have to part, and to part.. Angeal never wished to. Genesis’ feather light caresses, gentle like angel’s wings veiling the weary, broken man were a goddess-sent. 

It felt like they could become one with the hold he had on him, with the tender care and acceptance Genesis gave. 

His body was beginning to ease to the boy’s soft touch, fingers curling around the wrinkles of his sweater, pulling down the fabric to straighten it and repeating the process of running down his arm, breaths so steady it was too calm for Genesis. It was no wonder Sephiroth was so drawn in by him, only finding his balance by setting him as his cornerstone. 

Why Genesis forgave him even though he had practically killed him.

Angeal gave up. When those little hands ran through his deep dark strands, he wept onto his shoulder. Silent breaths sounded within the small compartment of a room, with Genesis wordlessly stroking his hair, curling into Angeal whose arms snaked around him so tight, so desperate. 

He felt Genesis’ eyes linger upon him, a frown settling on his beautifully unmarred face, but couldn’t bring himself to meet that gaze. He was a shameful sight, crying while his friend slowly disintegrates into the night sky. The warmth that radiated so naturally from his thin body kept him from parting, from letting go of his wounded friend. 

He mumbled a scream of apologies, begged for things to get better for them, for Genesis, for all their friends. He shook, he quivered, he cried, he poured all of the pain he tucked away into the older male who soundlessly took it in, lowering one of his hands to the shuddering back of his. He didn’t struggle despite the grip that was very much crushing him, that was devouring him, no wince, no squirming away.. it was as if he understood it all and couldn’t feel any of it. 

As if Angeal’s anguish was more painful than the constriction he was under.

To the raven male’s surprise, Genesis’ hand shifted to his cheek, lowering his face to replace the light finger stroke with his lips. Breath catching in his throat, Angeal shifted up, glancing at the boy who smiled at him, eyes crystalline bright and so beautiful, half-lidded and zeroed in on him with so much love, it tugged at his heartstrings. 

Genesis kissed his forehead once more, his hand running circles around his left cheek. Once, twice, thrice, he repeated the process, his lips resting on his forehead for a second or two before shifting back, only to rest once more, inch by inch to each corner. Softer than the well-cared hands it was, so sweet and tender, Angeal melted, smiling as their eyes conversed.

“Can I..?”

“Cloud gave me permission after I caught him having the hots for Zack.” He responded with a snicker, to Angeal’s surprise, he wasn’t bothered that the underclassman wasn’t exclusively loving him. Perhaps, this was something he’s seen coming. “Besides, you look like you need it.”

What threw him off was that.. _Genesis asked for permission?_

Angeal melded them together, feeling complete for the first time since they enrolled into the Academy. 

**\--**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a great weekend.


	25. Another step away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present, and a flashback before it’s all present time)
> 
> I think it's mostly in Cloud and Genesis' point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- first of all, sorry for the later than usual update, I have no other reason but the fact that I overslept.  
> \- Damn.. we’re already at the latter half of this story. I can’t believe it’s been about 20 weeks of posting this story (since some weeks had doubles).  
> \- Oh, this one has implied smut, whoops. I’m not very much a smutty person, but this one just happened!  
> \- pardon the spacing, I often forget how much I added when posting these.

**\--**

If a member of Silver Elite ever asks Cloud how it felt to be cornered like a prey by Sephiroth, he could answer them that it felt like an absolute nightmare. It was freaking horrifying to be under his shadow, piercing green eyes glaring down at him, hands on his shoulders and snarling, asking him for the auburn teen. 

He knew the boys were stressed by their training and positioning as Commanders of their squadrons, but that was no reason to appear as if he was going to kill him. Besides, he wasn’t his lover’s keeper, he wouldn’t know where he was on every minute of the day…

No, he understood why Sephiroth approached him. As far as things went, he was the one Genesis supposedly spent the most time with. They were lovers, it was bound to happen. To add to that fact, Genesis was the kind to stay close to ones he cared most for. When it was simply Angeal and himself, he was almost never alone, when Sephiroth was added to the equation, Genesis often wound his arms around theirs, smiling at jealous onlookers. 

To Sephiroth, it all changed once Zack and Cloud came into the picture, when they became bigger priorities due to club work and this relationship. Angeal had left him first, teaching the youth more than staying with Genesis and Sephiroth, and now Genesis was snagged away because some child wanted to have a strange bond with him. It still didn’t make sense to him, and he wasn’t sure when it would. 

Right now, Cloud was more or less a reminder that his friend was leaving him soon.

“Was he or was he not with you for the past couple of days.” He asked as a statement, his voice drawling dangerously low. Cloud shook his head, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat to stand his ground. 

“He was for a good half of Monday, but not yesterday nor today.”

Sephiroth’s gaze shifted almost neurotically, so much was buried within those cat-like eyes so bright and pale, much like Genesis but grassier, and Cloud sought to assist him. If the silver male was concerned to this extent about Genesis, something was not right. Something was hidden from them that only that boy could see. 

“If you’re his lover, then you’re in league with his business.” Sephiroth correctly assessed, but only for a normal situation. Cloud did not try to pry into Genesis’ matters in fear of upsetting the boy. While it took a while to truly get him angered, once the bait was placed, it was a fire awaiting them. A storm that was approaching, if you must. 

“You’re right, but it’s not in my thing to intrude into what he doesn’t want me to.”

He hoped he wasn’t going to be on Sephiroth’s bad list. That scowl was not going away, the tenseness in his figure growing more and more as he darted his gaze to the sides, almost animalistic in nature. 

Yet, just like a snap of his fingers, all traces of former anger dissipated with the sight of the said boy step in, eyes almost listless as he glanced at them, as if he didn’t register it was his best friend and lover who were in nothing short of an argument. Held to his chest with both arms were folds of fabric, one deep black, the other resembling a shade of magenta, and the last that was on top of the bright hue was a baby blue. The blond was ready to greet him with a relieved smile until his eyes roamed to the black brace on his right shoulder—making the smile run away. 

Why was he wearing a brace? Was he wounded? Genesis didn’t tell him anything of incurring damage…

Before he could even take a step forward to embrace his auburn lover, the silver male raced up to him, eyes wide and returning to the child-like state he usually was when Genesis was involved. Only this time, it was more out of concern than curiosity.

“Why have you been avoiding us?”

The youngest of the three stood back, unsure if he should be there or not. There was something a little too distant in those bright cerulean eyes, too far away from where they were standing, out of the vicinity. It was only after a couple of seconds more then it appeared that Genesis returned to the Planet, to _them_.

“Wasn’t avoiding you guys..” he mumbled, brows furrowed as he met Sephiroth’s gaze. His lips pursed to a corner as he pondered, “I had work to do.”

“What kind of work caused you to avoid your lover?” If Cloud was not ridden with fear, he would’ve commended Sephiroth for his detective-like demeanor. His approach was excellent for eliciting information from prisoners, from suspicious individuals who were core to a cause. 

“That’s irrelevant,” Genesis’ defensive dismissal had even the blond raise a brow. When the two didn’t relent, the auburn boy rolled his eyes, “look, it has to do with these. They were meant to be a surprise.”

When Sephiroth’s eyes travelled down to the black leather in Genesis’ hands, his eyes widened before settling back to hooded blue. 

“Are these for us..?”

Finally, a tiny smile made its way around Genesis’ face, who glanced down tenderly. 

“I’ll meet you later, Cloud?” At the mention of his name, Cloud perked up. “I do owe you for dealing with this overgrown kitty.”

“Overgrown kitty? Just what does that make you?” Sephiroth shared a smile at this moment, sneering long and wide, so full of affection. Cloud glanced at the two before coming to a conclusion; Genesis must’ve assisted him in coming to an understanding of love. 

Genesis’ eyes met deep blues, ignoring Sephiroth’s jest with a shake of his head. He was giving him the floor to finally speak.

“Of course! Do what you need to.” It was difficult not to smile when the auburn teen did. There was something in the way his little smiles worked, so kind and acknowledging. It was perhaps what compelled Cloud to fall for him in the first place. 

He wanted to protect that beautiful expression of his, so fleeting and shy. 

That smile that had Cloud forget the strife of the days before, and the one minutes before he presented himself with that solemn radiance that put the sun’s rays of light to shame. By the goddess, Cloud was madly, truly, deeply in love with him.

So much that it was a painful scab that etched into his body when the auburn male waved him off, leaving the room with Sephiroth who followed him out. 

**-x-**

Genesis didn’t expect to be caught in a tight embrace by both of his friends when he limped out of the infirmary. It was after another night from that one he first returned to the realm of living that he was allowed to step outside. Hollander was scheduled to routinely check on the wound, refusing to allow Hojo to inspect upon his patients after what took place that day.

Genesis preferred Professor Faremis for his hushed care he offered, but they claimed that he was still too busy to take on another patient’s recovery process. Being Head of the Medical Wing and all, it should’ve been duly noted that he was working on a multitude of tasks and being _in charge_ of Hollander and Hojo was one too big. 

He wondered if the lad had any grey hairs that he hid under jet black strands. 

As soon as he opened the door and was going to his assigned dormitory, his head collided with Angeal’s chest as he was pulled into his strong embrace, and behind were the hesitant arms of Sephiroth. He couldn’t see how Sephiroth leaned his face on the crook of his neck, instead, leaving it to his senses to feel the soft breath that escaped him. Angeal’s rested atop of his head, muttering a, ‘oh my goodness, it’s been so long’.

Now, he did kind of expect his friends to be around to go, ‘wow, you’re awake!’, but somehow, he didn’t expect to be attacked with a barrage of such.. soft sentiment, such love that shouldn’t be given to someone who didn’t belong in this world. It was overwhelming, so precious and beautiful, so **undeserving**. 

Sephiroth and Angeal were too good to him. 

Was this how Sephiroth felt when was bundled in their arms during that one strange seizure? More peculiar how such a thing did not happen a second time. It was just that one incident where he lost his focus to the point his body shrieked and shivered. 

_“Will it all go away? All.. this.”_

At least, they were nowhere near the wounded shoulder. 

Shifting in their arms, his eyes met the tear-stained ones of his childhood friend. At that, pale blue eyes grew a fraction. Why was Angeal _crying?_ Did he give him that much of a fright? 

“Thank Gaia, you’re alright…” Angeal’s soft tone trembled, cheeks flushed and dark eyes brimming with more tears streaming down his handsome face. Two droplets dropped to either sides of Genesis’ cheeks as he kept his gaze, wide with shock. “I thought you were a goner.”

He was weeping _for_ him? Oh goddess, no… no no no. 

“Angeal.. don’t. Don’t cry.” Ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder, he lifted his hand to caress the soft cheek of his slightly younger friend. “Not for me.. please.”

“How can’t I? that damned Doctor Hojo kept telling us there’s no hope for you.” Angeal chided, arms tightening around the older but shortest of the trio, “I didn’t want to believe it. You can’t leave us.”

And he was right.

“When can I…?” he shouldn’t have asked. He shouldn’t even speak in this scene, just bask in what he was given with a grateful smile. To appreciate what he was offered as compensation for the suffering he had endured at the hands of his.. no, at the choice of protecting his friend from certain death. 

If he was taught how.

“When we become heroes! You surely haven’t forgotten your promise to me.” The smile that birthed on his sweet face was devoid of happiness. It was a final plea, a broken smile of a nearly breaking child. Genesis was left with swallowing a lump in his throat.

He really gave his word that time, so resolute, ready, willing and able with Angeal. That time, and even now, he so damn wished that he would be able to reap the day he and Angeal, now along with their silver friend emerged as heroes. As saviours of the Planet, if not more than a mere continent. Liberators of those enslaved and ripped into the seams. 

Just the three of them.

That dream, that ambition was what brought him here, in the arms of his best friends he cherished more than the essence of life itself. 

“I never forgot, Angeal.. who do you think I am?” oh goddess, his voice shook, his own smile crackling the same as his childhood friend’s. He was not going to shed tears, he hadn’t earnt that right yet, not when he…

Was Sephiroth in a state similar? Unable to understand the pain that churned in his heart, making every try to eliminate the emotion that swayed his judgment. Struggling to stop the invasion from overpowering him as he drew comfort in his friend’s well-being. 

A breathed apology just a hair away from the sensitive vein of his neck broke the dams. 

The stronghold Genesis built with walls of reassured smiles, of meticulous arrangements to save his friends from the darkness that was looming over their fated friendship, of reminding himself that he was living for and by Angeal and Sephiroth crumbled into dust. The bricks continued to fall, dropping into the crevasse of nothingness, a blackhole if you must. Each touch into the ravine obliterated all chances of rebuild.

His resolve fell as it became a little too hard to breathe. His chest was contracting into itself, locking his lungs in a tight chokehold. The sensation pooled his eyes and rained down his cheeks, lips unable to stay in place, parting or trying to eat itself.

“Oh.. oh goddess.” He was falling, he was honestly and for truly losing it. “What the hell am I doing?”

Sephiroth’s arms strengthened its hold on him, and Genesis felt the poor guy shuddering. Angeal was in no state better, struggling to keep it together as well as embracing his loss of his ever-flowing calm. The only difference that lied within the three was how his childhood friend was not repelling his own feelings, he held it close, permitted it to unshed the strong armour. 

“Genesis, let it out.” He advised, gathering himself and Sephiroth, “rid of what’s inside.”

“But Seph,” copper eyelashes veiled his eyes that continued to trickle streams of water down his cheeks, blending with the large drops of his childhood friend’s. He was why poor little Sephiroth was digging for answers deep inside of himself but attaining nothing. “Seph doesn’t understand…”

“Sephiroth needs you to allow yourself to cry for him to get his answers.” One of Angeal’s hands rose, giving feather light strokes to his vibrant hair, the other reaching for Sephiroth’s waist not far from Genesis’. Finding his arms shift, the oldest of the three ran his hand on the scalp of Sephiroth’s head who didn’t part from his uninjured shoulder. 

And Genesis cried. He wept for Sephiroth who had not an inkling as to what that even was, sobbed for Angeal who cried for him, held him so close. The sole reason why the revolving lanterns hadn’t finally taken him. 

Three lost children shed more tears for a loss exceeding the rues of a soldier, no words exchanged further as their hearts mourned. 

**\--**

True to his word, Genesis returned to Cloud’s dormitory when he was finished his work with Sephiroth. 

While the blond had the foolish wonder of what the heck the silver male needed from his lover, he didn’t dare question it out loud. He couldn’t possibly upset the upperclassman after all that was in his mind, with the tasks he seemed so damned busy with. He didn’t want to pester him about anything, no matter the necessity. Not when the sweet boy gave him a tender kiss to his forehead, smiling at him the way only he could, and cradled his cheeks. 

“I’m going to dread the day I share you.” Cloud mumbled so shyly as he drew the older male close, wrapping his arms around the small of his back as he seated himself on the recliner, pulling Genesis with him. With the way the auburn-haired male’s eyes widened a small fraction, Cloud knew he was in surprise by his forwardness.

If he had to be honest, he too, felt the same. 

It was only with Genesis that he felt the need to have him, to be the one who held him close. With Zack, he didn’t mind being in the cuddling warmth, receiving pampered affection from him, it was strange. With Genesis, he felt like the stronger one who needed to protect his lover, the one who would lead him within this difficult subject of love. 

Despite his training, Genesis was still so thin and almost dainty. He was without a doubt strong as he held Rapier with ease, but so frail and slender, it was so beautiful. Genesis was beautiful inside and outside, Cloud would know that, having the privilege of being the first who got to see the withdrawn boy under all the layers of applied masks of confidence. Cloud was the first to have that true perfection within his grasp, whom he nestled deep inside of, embracing him tight as their souls connected.

“I never thought my little Chocobo was greedy..” he jested back, not meaning a single word.

The little dust of scarlet that rushed those chubby cheeks were worth the jest. How was it that Cloud was able to be both a figure of authority and yet be such a cute young child?

“What’s going to happen to you..?” when those bright eyes glanced at him, his head dipping to the side in question, the blond elaborated, “To you, Angeal and Sephiroth after this bridge?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll still be touring, won’t you? And be with Zack and I..”

Smiling small, Genesis’ hands came to rest upon his cheeks, “you silly.. of course we will have time for you two. I won’t be on tour for a year or so, but that’s because I’m not working on a new single yet. The album’s out and doing good.”

It was when the upperclassman shifted on the younger boy’s lap that he caught sight of the strange black brace hung over his right shoulder. Was that always there? How long was he wearing this? Since the time of enlistment? The blond boy couldn’t put a finger as to where was the first time he had seen it. 

Why only one shoulder? And the one he held a blade or a pen with?

Guess that was why he often didn’t like to remove his clothing. 

“I think you need some rest, Gen.” He commented warily, trying to pretend he didn’t just have a bout of fear welling into his system at the thought that his lover might be hurt, or will be hurt once they truly step on the battlefield. 

“I’ll rest when I need to.” The pretty male’s eyes shifted down for a second before raising, “I owe you a little night with us, and us only.”

“Only if you want.” His kind, beautiful lover must’ve been exhausted as it was, seemingly distant in these days.

No, it wasn’t merely days otherwise Cloud as well as Sephiroth could’ve overlooked it. Genesis has been on his own agenda for the past couple of weeks, perhaps even a month since the program started. While he didn’t want to stick his nose where it is not welcomed, he was concerned for the well-being of his. It wasn’t because Genesis was throwing hissy fits or making a scene, it was quite the opposite course of action that raised the brows. 

Not that Genesis was an idiot. He was more expressive, left his heart on his sleeve where all could pull up and catch. These days, he was receptive to Cloud’s affectionate ways, smiling at them warmly, but also empty for those grins almost never met the eyes. The loving nature that he displayed to each of his friends as if things were alright, that he was happy and there for them frightened him. 

Unfortunately, he knew not to pry… even if the flags of warning were flaring his way. Genesis was not alright, but there was nothing he could do. Not now, not until he was called for. 

“I don’t mind, time with you is most amusing.” That kiss to the forehead was enough for the little boy to hush all questions swirling through his curious mind. It was enough to inform him that nothing mattered in this moment but the very fact that his love was right here with him. 

He had to bask in the moment. 

“Could I ask you to sing to me, songbird?”

“Of course, love.”

**\--**

Time was racing towards him. It was rather humorous, really. 

For someone who couldn’t wait to be out there and bringing glory to his name, someone who didn’t fear the end for all joined the Lifestream, he was not prepared for how quickly it was all occurring. It was rapidly going, each passage flipping through like a quick perusal through his favourite book he was commanded to put down.

Hours turned into minutes, minutes into seconds, and seconds into wasted spenditure. 

Their demonstration was the day after, and by the goddess, his body ached in almost every area. He made sure to spend the day before this one all day with his lover, and he was at least relieved to say it wasn’t in vain. Slightly painful, a bit boring with the Chocobo races he sat and watched for a good half of the day, but it seemed worth it to see the little blond boy so happy, fulfilled and spoiling him until he was called today to leave. The bubble bath was an adorable addition.. when did he know Genesis liked them so?

The boy was absolutely lovely with aftercare.

Anyroad, the student he put in charge of researching through the databases was able to provide some of the details he wasn’t aware of, such as the discovery of JENOVA that was inserted into each student. The fact that it was founded by Gast Faremis was no surprise, but the list of failures that were arose by the trail and error process of perfecting that drug came as a personal note-worthy detail. No one was ever informed of the amount of students that were put into the resignation pile due to the side-effects overtaking them. 

The fact that his name was very close to reaching to it poured an immense shiver down his spine. 

Smaller details about the Professors and their fields of major were listed in the catalogue, something that Genesis nor Kunsel paid much heed to, until the imposter came into view. The double identity of the very Professor Faremis led to the can of worms the auburn teen was searching for. 

Still, it wasn’t enough to ignite a flame at all. They only found the fire-place, void and clear of any good logs to burn through. The surface with no gasoline to lit up the place. Genesis was as powerful as he was powerless alone, and if he was going to upscale a grand scheme, it had to wait until he was strong enough, had enough support to accomplish this. 

Besides, he didn’t have a strong disdain for the Academy itself, just the doctors. He had no interest to instigate a war between him and the institution, just needed a reason to temporarily leave. That reason needed to be big enough to cease from rousing any suspicion.

Sephiroth’s father hadn’t returned even after those three years, and while Genesis was very much interested to go and seek him out, he believed that the Academy could provide the means to accomplish this. If this stupid place was anything like the lectures drilled into Angeal’s head, then he could trust that they will make excellent protectors to the public. 

And that didn’t exclude anyone harmed by the Academy. 

Genesis had to grow stronger if he wanted to bring Vincent back to his son, to find some of his own that were hinted along the way. 

“Unit G leader Rhapsodos,” expecting it to be the call of the drill sergeant, he glanced up with a blink when his gaze caught Mr. Tuesti calling to him, kind eyes meeting his as he and his two best friends stood in the instructor’s office. Seated on the chair across the oldest male was the young Student Council President Rufus, eyeing them with a smile that didn’t reflect those blues that were studying the three, one by one, “did you catch on that?”

Finding that he completely zoned out for a good minute there, he couldn’t veil the dumbfounded feeling birthing inside of him. And so, on a whim, he guessed.

“We’re pitted against where we fall short, aren’t we? Say Angeal is physically the strongest, so his test is Materia oriented, and mine on physicality.. things like that.”

Genesis couldn’t understand why the perfect, focused and placid smile of Rufus shifted into a grimace, as if that was something he was entirely against, rather than something he was up for showing off. Was it going to yield that bad of a result?

“Lazard and I are trying to change that.”

Much to his pushed down seat of anger, all eyes were upon the obsidian shaded brace around his shoulder. They were making sure he was under a handicap so that he wouldn’t put a strain to his shoulder that was showing signs of ill-recovery. It was as if the wound had opened up once again, spilling itself over and over when it wasn’t sedated. 

Must’ve been because he was avoiding visits to Doctor Hollander. 

He almost darted out of the room to avoid from exploding infront of them. 

“Gen,” Sephiroth called out, running a blacked gloved hand over his scarlet duster, like a caress to calm his nerves that were rising up, “it’s not exactly what we were talking about. We were discussing the plan to against Wutai who once again declared war on us.”

With that, the auburn boy’s anger dissipated, replaced with wide eyes darting to the silver teen who continued the soft touch, a tiny ghost of a smile upon his lips. 

“We’re _what?_ ”

“After our demonstration tomorrow, we set off to Wutai in a week with our assigned troops.” The silver teen continued, explaining with a voice that reflected nothing but cold rationality that it carried too often, especially when his own nerves were pressed. Genesis swallowed a nervous lump in his throat.

Sephiroth was holding himself back as much as he was trying to rein him back in.

“Unfortunately, this demonstration is important for your troop’s morale, otherwise I would’ve told father to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.” Rufus sympathized, another bit to add to Genesis’ astonishment. With the way Cloud gave him such dirty looks, he didn’t think it was possible for the mastermind of a brother to consider his subjects as humans, as people that are important, to be accommodated. 

As he’s said before many, many times, _wonders never cease._

“So.. demonstration and then en route to Wutai, is that it?” Angeal was strangely quiet throughout this meeting, as far as Genesis stayed awake upon. That wasn’t a good sign. The only one whose concern he truly felt, and couldn’t debate with, was his. There was no way to tell the one who lived the longest with you that they shouldn’t worry about a true near death situation, abandonment that was inevitable. 

To tell him that the numbered days were coming close was no breath of fresh air. It was a poison to swallow. 

Unfortunately.. one that Genesis could sympathize with, knowing he never wanted to witness the last bated breaths of his friends. 

“We apologize for the short notice…” Mr. Tuesti apologized, by the way his body nearly curled before it straightened told him of his resistance to bow to them, knowing he was the superior. And superiors did not bow to their underling. 

“In war, there is nothing but short notices.” Angeal finally spoke, smiling warmly to their superior. That very smile that made Genesis’ heart flutter, almost skip a beat with how sweet it was. “We hardly blame you for what we have been preparing day in and out for. With honour I say, we are your shields as we are your blades, Mr. Tuesti, Rufus.”

The smile that was offered to the raven teen was a wry one by the young President. 

“This boy doesn’t speak for the two of you, I’m sure.”

Sephiroth made no motion to agree nor disagree, the steel mask solid upon his soft, pale features as he flitted a gaze to his friend. Grin matching the young blond, Genesis gave a nod. “I daresay, Rufus, _the end is nigh.”_

**\--**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend. Twitter and Tumblr are both @AmareinMortis


	26. Requiem of blades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Present time).
> 
> This one has multiple perspectives and had to be put into another chapter because I reached my quota.  
> Mostly an action chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Yohoho~ here to go!  
> \- sure, things are not really following my drafts, but s'all good. It's not bad.

**\--**

At the hearken of the call, the three swordsmen marched forward to present themselves. 

Each of them donned a long duster that reached over their shins. Along with this, it appeared as though two of the three had extra additions to their attire, such as the change in footwear and how they held their weapon harnesses. Hewley stood with the standard uniform under the baby blue duster that stood proudly on his shoulders, prim and pressed proper as expected of him, Sephiroth removed the black-turtleneck from his, buckling the coat closed through the button on the middle, and Rhapsodos chose a shade that brought eyebrows up their foreheads.

Mahogany made sense, a crimson dark as black that would help him camoflague, or a pale red dull as the blue of Hewley’s light blue. No, he chose a bright magenta radiant as his hair and deep as flame. With the brace on his shoulder, the pauldrons were removed revealing to Rufus how..

Strangely, he didn’t seem any broader than he was. Despite his lack of training, he was perhaps less lithe than Rhapsodos was. 

Mentally shaking his head, he gestured to Mr. Tuesti to give them an outline if what they were tasked to do. He and Lazard were more or less spectators to the event, and with the meeting of the Student Council zeroing in his mind, there was nothing more he was focused upon. 

All arrangements were made. The gears needed to roll, three must shine brighter than the stars in the sky. 

To say he was tense was truly an understatement. While confident that the Student Council were strong enough to pull this through, there was very little room for error. Each and every one of them were required to fulfill their role to a T, to the exact breadth of measurement. 

They were not war veterans, they were mere students holding firearms too large for their tiny, inexperienced bodies. 

A peek over to Lazard and he resisted a mirthless chuckle. His older brother couldn’t bother concealing the shaking palms, the tight-knit fingers often fiddling with his glasses as if they were too loose for his head, slouching lower in great contrast to his prissy and sassy posture of gentle confidence. He barely glanced elsewhere.

This display of nerves and jitters was why Rufus accentuated his image of placidity, of tranquility and faith that his people will do well. They will succeed. There will be a revolution and liberation. 

The woman of the same name as her scarlet dress stepped their way, thin heels clinking loudly on the marble flooring, waving her hand in a beckoning gesture to the three soon to be warriors, smile never leaving her perfectly put face. Three doors opened from behind her as she blew a kiss at them. 

“For luck” she stated, as she greeted the Headmaster who ascended the floor with Mr. Tuesti, Lazard and he. They were going to watch their process through the cameras placed within the terrain. As he followed his father, he found the cadets that were behind to be a laughable eyesore. They were the bodyguards for the Headmaster, weren’t they? Even he is aware that there is going to be an attempt for his head in the near future. 

Godo Kisaragi must’ve frightened the living hell out of him. It worked in Rufus’ favour for he was certain that his father wasn’t interested in watching a demonstration as this, but due to the possibility of entering war, he has been running desperate to ship them off. 

After Mr. Tuesti gave them his word, he ascended the stairs to their level, offering a little thumbs up to the technicians to operate the trials. It was all Virtual Reality as it had proven to be an effective tool to create simulations of various fields without having to travel or build it itself. The only drawback was how extreme damage to the virtual stage caused the room equipment to break apart. 

For this specific test, they had Materia shields dressing the room to prevent any malfunction. 

When the doors opened, the three took a glance at each other, wordlessly encouraging one another to do their best before they entered. Rhapsodos to the left, Hewley to the right and Sephiroth in the center. 

It was rather impressive how the technology worked within the Academy. For Rufus’ first time in witnessing its true colours, it was quite the eye-opener. Before the three and the current cadet squadrons, the boy had no idea about the soldier program instilled within the Academy. Often in the backseat of his father’s work, he wasn’t permitted to administer any of these nor was he able to spectate these modules. 

It was also.. no wonder his father hid all of these from him. It was all too perfect for a sleazebag as he.

The subject of Wutai resurfaced. If they were to end the Headmaster in this fell-swoop, there was a chance they would have to surrender to the Wutain forces. They also had the choice of allowing them to be the one who caused his father to retire. That would mean submitting to their will, and that… Rufus was not willing to do. 

Compromises were possible, if they could dispel some of their forces, they could reinitiate a treaty between the imperial country. The last thing they wanted to do was destroy another. Rufus wasn’t too interested in attaining too much territory—they were just a freaking Academy for the Planet’s sake. Education, not power, was their pursuit. 

Oh wait, they were a military school. World domination is an eventual goal. 

What was he saying? He wanted to take down his father as well as the Wutain rebels if they were not willing to cooperate with his plans. If the inevitable had to come. 

It was all arranged, the cards were set, he needed to merely show them his hand. 

As the cameras displayed the three warriors, the Student Council President leaned forward, smiling as calmly as he would when taking a walk. Resting his chin on his steepled fingers, he kept a level gaze down on the screens that displayed each individual scenario. 

He was prepared to listen to the requiem of blades imbued with the sway of magic. 

**\--**

Each of the three were given earpieces to transmit messages to, contact as if they were on different locations of a battlefield. When they parted ways, Angeal immediately had raised his signal to keep any distractions coming his way as he trudged through the barren tunnel, filled to the brim with torches of a vivid teal imitation flame. They were not warm to the touch for they were mere projections, but the pixeled effects were powerful enough to be felt and utilized. It provided enough light for him to notice each crevice on the cobblestone, the bits and chunks of ground that extended and were chipped off what used to be a clean floor. 

This tunnel was wide enough to have seven people in a row, to Angeal’s surprise. When he stepped through the door, he didn’t expect such an open space, such a distance that he couldn’t hear the steps of his friends even with his ever-increasing senses. They were not next to him in tunnels of their own, they were miles and miles away!

Keeping his gaze forward, he readied himself with the Buster Sword Junior, a beautiful silver blade embellished with gold on the hilt and the tip that rivalled the majestic companion blade, the Buster Sword. While he didn’t want to overuse that massive blade that weighed possibly a good chunk more than his friends, he let it lean on his back like a shield, a backup if he truly needed it. While cumbersome, it was good training for his body to adjust to combat while carrying a dead weight. 

Soldiers of tall stature and blades thin and long sped to him, aiming for a long lunge to stab him in a series of rapiers and odachi. Offering a smirk, Angeal swung his blade, slashing down upon them in a crescent swing, causing the ground to cave into a little crater where he stood. He wasn’t enthusiastic on killing his opponents, do not misunderstand. Had he the permission to keep them alive, or had a say in the matter, he would much rather defeat or disarm them, and then keep them as prisoners or send them back to their families.

Unfortunately, he had no choice but to strike them down in the name of who he served, to maintain his honour. His sworn servitude to those who had given him meaning, purpose, and the will to fight for whom he loved. 

He decimated all his way through the sheer power of his massive blade that struck like the slash of judgment. 

According to Rufus Shinra, his test was on a skill of strength. If anything, he needed to focus on attaining triumph against his foe through the power invested in his body, his spirit and mind. He had to have a clear mind to face what was racing forward at him in a matter of minutes, had to stand tall to shake off the foe that would be twice his body mass and prowess. 

His boots crunched the weakened chunks of the flooring as he trudged ahead. If he was sneaking through a facility or something, that would’ve been an action to avoid for it would alert the field workers. This trial was not one of those courses of action, no.. this was a direct assault on a base where the opponent _waited_ for his arrival. He was expected and was welcomed into the lair, likely anticipated to become an Angeal stew. 

What he should’ve expected was that his opponent, the beast that awaited his presence was one that matched both Genesis and Sephiroth. The being was powerful, his aura that he emitted was strong enough to blow gales of debris his way, shake his inner core if he didn’t believe that he was on par with the being. The faith that he had nothing to lose strung louder than the roar of the tunnel shaking. 

The beast’s blade met his in a motion to intercept what could’ve blown away his head, clean off his shoulders. Smiling uneasy, it was by instinct that he blocked the strike, and proceeded to offer attacks of his own. As expected, the being was able to match each attack and reciprocate similar, both clashing blades without a pause, raising their swords high and pouring enough force to shake the grounds, resound through the walls, rip through the air that compressed and blew in each direction. 

Swinging his sword in horizontal half-moon, he managed to force the beast—currently veiled in a series of shadows and murky substance that had no trace of smell, away from him. That second was granted to allow the reinforcements, the lackies of his opponent to launch a raid upon him. 

Heaving a sigh, Angeal raised his blade to face them, his smile growing into a little smirk. Rather than intimidating, it was growing quite irritating. His focus was on how to overpower the one who seemed to match with him in all levels. With every slash, slice or thrust, the shadowy figure caught on each. Every chance of finding an opening was closed when Angeal shifted his blade or fisted the ground. He couldn’t land a scratch nor be inflicted by one, and if he didn’t manage to defeat that being, there was no way out of the trial. Failure was a dishonour upon the Academy. 

He couldn’t afford a loss.

As soon as he stepped into the gate that was assigned to him, there was a hail of blades raining down upon him. Thinking of deflecting them, he was on his way to raise Rapier from the harness on his back when he only got the chance to take a step to the side to avoid becoming a Genesis-kebab. 

It was a narrow space he was walking in, the width of the hallway only fitting two people and a child, meaning there was little to go around. The floor consisted of strange marble tiles, resembling the training room, the portions tiny. Glancing up at the ceiling, he couldn’t find where it ended, so high and pitch-black, too dark to detect anything, even with his heightened senses. All he could figure out in these sequences of rolling on the ground, sharp slides from the projectiles that kept falling down his way was that the weapons dropped from the ceiling. It could mean that was what made the top of this long corridor.

The pace of the falling ceiling blades, lances and swords, flails and axes were a little too quick for a deflection with Rapier. It was proven to be both careless and too fast to deflect with Rapier. If he rose it up to guard, three would be swept to the side, but the nine remaining would make perfect pierces through his body, killing him instantly. The wiser choice was to keep his right arm in a relaxed state as he dodged every flailing weapon that was thrown at him and proceed. 

As he raced forward, the projectiles increased, and the marbled ground revealed holes from where blazes of fire Materia activated, small flames propagating so close to where he stood. At this, Genesis hopped to the wall, his hand catching the clasp of where a lantern should’ve hung and swung from it onto the other when he found how high his feet were from the ground. One of the metallic pieces tore off its hedges, dropping Genesis onto the floor like a ragdoll, pouring most pressure onto his good arm as he braced the fall with a Wall spell to keep from getting a thorn in his side, quite literally, if you must.

The green mana gathered naturally through his palm and formed a platform under his knees, protecting him from the ground that protruded a field of thorns waiting to pierce through him. As he knelt on his spell’s light, he made a deft side-step to avoid the sudden burst of the wall with the broken latch. His cerulean eyes caught on a shadow that passed him by at a great speed, paying no heed to him.

His opponent. 

His opponent was a racer that he needed to outrun. The corner of his lip dipped up through the pressure as Genesis broke into a sprint. Chasing the shadowy figure that successfully avoided each trap, each obstacle that interrupted their little game. 

Genesis had to think quickly. There was only so much stamina he had, so much time to avoid all the weapons’ assault and beat the figure in the race. As he continued to run, he took peeks around the terrain, assessing what was possible to use to either speed himself up, or slow down the racer who seemed unbothered by the obstacles. Parts of the floor rose like blocks, another hindrance to overcome. 

Landing his hands on the protruding space, Genesis lifted his body to make a flip over it, a convenience that the heels of his boots were able to kick away the reduced weapon sleet. The harpoon that was deflected happened to hit a piece of the floor causing the flames to dim, its influence lowering within the warm hall. It was starting to become bothersome to deal with the raised heat levels in the room and the instinctive freezing of his body. 

He resorted to jumping across the raised blocks, catching a trace of newly forming dew.

_Think quickly, quickly!_

No freaking way was he going to let a no-faced lad on a bike win against him. 

When Sephiroth entered the gate, he had imagined walking through the technologically attuned domain. The training rooms that he had entered were often the capricious Junon Campus that truly resembled a gigantic weapon, a cannon so large, it could crush an entire city with a fire of its enlarged bullet, or a robotic laboratory. 

Here, he was in a place that was a shard of his past. A place that should be long forgotten, set aside from the service of his memories, a reminder of what he was before Vincent Valentine made that pleasant change, the days before he had two comrades, friends who he could entrust his entire life to. Long before the time he was given two kind souls he wouldn’t mind destroying the world for, taking up the blade and killing all that stood against him. 

If it made them smile. If it saved them. 

In this current moment, he returned to that dark place, alone but not as little as he was when he began. Slaying left and right, looking neither forward nor behind as he hacked his elongated blade into the miserable fools who decided to stand in his way. Where Sephiroth was a mere label for the boy who had no expression, no sense of anything, possessed nothing but his outer features, under the care of his father who refused to allow him to have thoughts of his own, meaning to his life, a pursuit that wasn’t predetermined by the doctor. 

He was back “home”. The home he never wanted to reside in. 

The deep dunes of the dusty brown ground, the spills of crimson and scarlet flying up into the blue of the sky but not reaching, fell in vain below his feet. As his gaze met the floor where the blood made its mark, soldiers beside, across, to his back and sides charged to their opponents in an unspoken order, only meeting the end by careless swings. His knees followed his eyes, wishing it could all go away.

His mind reeled back to each scratch cur into his skin, the blood that didn’t stop pouring out, spurting out of a punctured blade, a gash to the side, from limbs that would refuse to move. Days at being at his father’s lab, studied like a test subject resurfaced, blaring lights and more numbing sensations that he couldn’t once understand. 

A quick peek to his side and he found there were countless soldiers that were struggling, pumping air into their lungs as they prepared the final battle of their lives. Masamune rested in the grip of his left hand, unmoving as he watched each cadet fight. For their lack of skill, their valiant spirit was impressive. It was the only string that kept them from running away, panicking at the sight of someone superior. 

Surrendering was not in their vocabulary. 

_Why?_

Just then, the communication device stuck in his ear sounded.

**“Seph, Gen, you both alright?”** the static cleared into the soft baritone of Angeal’s voice. Even without his visible features, it was calming, gentle and a pat on the back that Sephiroth needed. There was a strain in that tone, but it didn’t harm the sentiment. He had to be in battle, what kind? Sephiroth was not aware of. 

_“Hmph..~ Don’t tell me you both are dying on me.”_ The other responded, giggling despite the greedy intakes of breath. Even with that, Genesis’ tone was chilled, sultry and challenging, the one who raised Sephiroth’s hands up, forcing him to a standing position. The roars of bursting flames were hard to miss, and the thud of thrusting weapons as it fell from a high height caught the silver-haired teen’s ears.

Once again, these two were the driving force to wake Sephiroth’s unparalleled prowess. 

If he wanted to return to his friends and away from this place, he had to recognize what was currently asked of him. To make accurate assessment of his task and play by their card. For their hands were the same as his, and this program was only in motion to ensure his wish comes true. No longer was he griping, making pathetic yearns and wishes.

He had to perform to the best of his abilities, not wail and weep in his inner turmoil. If he kept lingering on the pain of the scars that littered his pristine body, he was only going to be a hindrance to those who relied upon him, who would trust in him to have their backs supported, to be protected by their General. 

_Ah._

This was his test, wasn’t it?

Angeal was tested on his stance as the protective wall, the shield that kept all away from harm under a warm embrace, Genesis as their rampaging sword, who sang rageful notes of spells and danced relentlessly, Sephiroth was their soul. The one who did both, stood above them as the one who would keep them together and safe, awake and alive. He was their central command, their cornerstone, the Knight to Genesis’ Bishop and Angeal’s Rook, to Rufus’ Queen and Lazard’s King piece. 

_I see._

“Humouring us, Rhapsodos?”

Shutting his eyes, he stood tall, a smirk deep on his pale features. The darkness of the terrain dropped a beautiful contrast to his moonlight veil of thin strands, almost angelic under the deep leather and frightening blade. He thrusted Masamune to the side and beheading a couple of rogue soldiers that threatened to kill his people. 

_Not on my watch. No longer…_

“Behind me! Take the injured to the medical bay!” he ordered as he raised his blade in a position ready to deal countless lunges at the unfortunate souls who dared oppose him, who dared to breathe the same air as he and not be on their knees, begging for a surrender. A deepened sneer was the gentle reminder of their power difference resurfaced. How these feeble cadets ever imagined they could stand on the same ground as _Sephiroth._

His assault began upon the forces like a nightmare that creeped on the sleeping children. If they ever believed for a second that they had the Vorpal blade that slayed Jabberwocky, they were so helplessly mistaken. 

There was no possible way he was going to be bested in a terrain that remained his specialty. 

His friends were joining him, no matter what the cost.

“How are you two holding up?”

**\--**

Rufus had to make sure he was not tapping his foot on the floor as if he was growing frustrated that things were not moving according to his plans. It must not ever be known that the impressive display of the three strongest cadets was a mere diversion for a bigger course of action. If the Student Council President let any sign of faltering, it could very well be a foundation for counteraction.

A glance over to his older brother and he was in no state better. While both were seated next to their father, the older male didn’t bother focusing on them as soon as Sephiroth was on the camera, standing in the battlefield of Wutai. 

Lazard’s hands were intertwined, holding his forehead knit in worry. It was easily played off as concern for the silver warrior who knelt to the ground, staring with wide eyes at the soldiers—his allies battle to the death without a single sense in his body. Hewley was losing his focus due to the number of enemies coming his way, striking from almost every degree save for the low grounds, and Rhapsodos slipped on the now drenched ground after debris spat out of the rider’s wheels. 

Each of them struggled with adjusting to their surroundings, not knowing how to defeat one who excelled at what they did. It was a bitter pill to swallow to admit that it was intentional to set them up against these opponents. The first condition was to keep his father distracted, centered on the three, and the second was to find a means to determine what could be done with them. 

As Rufus expected the three boys to do, they began to talk. While he had a microphone tucked at his blazer collar, he kept it off. It wasn’t in his place to intrude where it is not necessary. And well.. nor was he interested to know.

Sephiroth, Hewley and Rhapsodos were like brothers who were separated at birth, raised differently and finally came together. The three were so close to each other, it was a slap to the face when it came to the relationship with his brothers. Both the Student Council siblings had it difficult with their younger, rebellious brother who wanted no part of their lives in his. It was a moment of irony that now he finally thought of his younger brother Cloud.

Was it because his own life was on the line in this predicament? If failure was a possibility, there was no telling what they would do to Rufus once they found his name as the one orchestrated this whole sequence. Surely, it was not going to be a simple motion of grounding him. 

If he loses the Student Council, he was powerless. 

His plan was fool-proof, it should all go exactly as plotted.. and yet, why did it feel like it was going to bite him very hard in a couple of minutes?

_Was there a chance of a miscalculation?_

Like a bolt to the blue, the elephant stood. Doctor Hojo was not present!

Uncharacteristic to his ever-smiling face, the boy’s teeth sunk into his thumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading~ stay safe and have a great weekend.


	27. Requiem of blades (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more AGS action and a new oddity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- goodness, sorry for not updating yesterday, got caught up and distracted.  
> \- also, at this point, despite my outline, it's safe to assume that even I have no idea what I'm doing.   
> \- anyroad, chapter. Happy reading~

**\--**

How was it possible to win…

How could he create an opening to the opponent that knew everything that he did, held the same strength as he?

**“How are you two holding out?”**

Swinging his silver sword and bursting a gale by the force waved off the lackies a second time. For the gigantic scaly blade that intended to bisect the raven male, Angeal took a sly step to the side in place of blocking the blow. The chances of Buster Sword Junior breaking before he could give it to a better protégé was too high. There was nothing he could think of, his opponent already knew and acted upon it. There had to be an opening that he could find, that he could exploit, that he could—

_“Trouble, Angeal?”_ he almost forgot he had the signal raised loud enough to quell all other noise into silence. Genesis’ rushed singsong crooned through the little speaker, teasing him as always. 

“Quite.”

**“What are you facing?”** Sephiroth’s deep bass spoke over his, without a visual still maintained a firm yet gentle air. 

“A big powerhouse, you guys?”

Raven brows raised as he heard a snicker that he expected from his childhood friend but wasn’t. It was the reserved silver-teen who chuckled in his place.

**“Commanding a platoon. Genesis, what are you doing? Dancing for your performance?”**

As his hearing caught on screams, he presumed it was due to the merciless strikes from their younger friend. 

_“If a race was a performance..~”_ Genesis retorted, not the slightest bit offended. _“Angeal, if you’re fighting a powerhouse, why not trip him on his feet?”_

The crash of the blade on the ground compelled the boy to rise into the spacious air to avoid damage, raising his blade up high to slam down of his own. 

“What!” he called out, the corners of his lips curving into a grin as he finally grazed more than the blade of the ‘powerhouse’. His Buster Junior made a deep cut through the opponent’s left arm—unfortunately, not his dominant hand. 

**“He means to deceive it.”** When Angeal couldn’t respond, parrying a particularly strong slash, Sephiroth continued, **“do not think like he does, try to fight the way Genesis does, or I do.”**

“Deceiving an opponent is dishonourable…” he grumbled, in spite of understanding their thought process. “You’re saying this is the only way to defeat it, because that beast is me?”

_“Bin-GO!”_ Did Genesis trip? As soon as he was voicing a response, the sound of a loud splash of water and an obvious grumble came from his end. Sephiroth was in a battlefield massive, judging by his words of commanding a platoon, it had to be a large, dry and barren landscape. _“Don’t think of attacking, just think of a song and sway to it!”_

To dance… So that was it.

**“That is one way to set the ground. Angeal, have you ever heard of fighting without thinking of your next move?”**

It all made sense.

The two were not talking due to the need to make small talk, they were occupying his mind, so he was focused on parrying blows, side-stepping and coming up with desperate measures to defeat this powerhouse of an opponent. His own weakness was theirs, and now was the time he figured out how to counter his own attacks.

Their distraction served its purpose, for Angeal’s mind began to clear itself in a lagoon of a blue, ‘quietly but surely’. It wasn’t how to counter the shots fired at him, it was a task to see where his attacks fell short, then blindside him. In this way, it was a lesson for the raven male; to discover his own weakness and overcome it, become that perfect wall that he currently wasn’t. His armour still had too many chinks, too many bolts and chains that came underway, it was too frail and easy to breakthrough.

But no longer. 

Standing tall with the Buster Junior poised like a Knight in prayer, the boy let his eyes flutter shut. If he used his sight, he was going to try and parry the blow once again, evade and counter with an attack the opponent was aware of. The answers were here, he simply needed to take it. 

With his vision blocked, it was simpler to apply what his mind perceived the world to be. As he expected, images of none other than himself and Genesis filled him. He and his childhood friend trying to wrestle each other with weaker blades, with Rhapsodos lunging in with rapid spins and twirls to force the wind into his attacks, to make up for his lack of natural muscle might, and Angeal holding his sword tall and propelling him back with each counter. How the auburn boy would skid here and there on the grassy floor but manage to slip an opening and have his smaller, thinner blade nearly brush his friend’s neck.

_That’s it._

Feeling his smile deepen, Angeal opened his eyes as he prepared to make his move, shifting his booted foot just a step. As the shadowy figure raised its blade, the boy dipped his body, escaping the being’s sight before the broadsword made its mark on an empty space. Angeal slid under the long, parted legs of his opponent and pointed his blade to the left side of its neck. 

For extra measure, he turned his face to offer the being a glance. It was over. Angeal had won the battle.

His eyes met deep blue, and the shadowy figure shifted into one that resembled himself.. with a wing as white as snow protruding from his back and over his right shoulder. The angelic feathered piece extended long and across the field, nearly brushing the wall beside it.

The figure smiled before it began to fade into pixels.

_“Commanding a platoon. Genesis, what are you doing? Dancing for your performance?”_

How that silver-haired male mocked him so..

“If a race was a performance..~”Genesis answered, centered more on providing a dually executed plan. First, a plan to force the racer to lose his tracks, and to help Angeal get through his trial. Assistance was not forbidden if it was merely advice to one another. “Angeal, if you’re fighting a powerhouse, why not trip him on his feet?”

**“What!”**

Thank the Goddess Herself for granting him intellect, the will to strive and make plans come into motion. Eons of plans scheduled for the future.. nothing was going to stop him from making them come true. 

Drenched in the grails of the fountain he had yet to be submerged in, Genesis continued his chase of the racer who continued on as if there was nothing around could serve as an obstacle. Fat chance of that truly correct. The currents that were filling the corridor had slowed his pace as it did Genesis.

Deflecting the projectiles changed the scenery.. perhaps if he had a good aim, he could use that to his advantage and damage the racer who had an obvious advantage against him. It was time to steal his thunder, steal his ground, turn his head around, shake him down because Genesis was an underdog with fangs bearing. 

Knowing the auburn boy’s style, every motion of dashing away from the weapons were done in style, fluid and like a tiny dancer. Genesis twirled away, readying flames in his left hand and shot it at the wall adjacent to him. The wall crumbled on immediate contact with the fireball, the metallic pillars melting by the corrosive flame born out of the passion of his soul, and the streams of water retreated into the broken space. 

_“He means to deceive it, do not think like he does, try to fight the way Genesis does, or I do.”_ For the issue of his faltering breath, he was grateful that it was Sephiroth who could explain it in words Angeal could understand. For Genesis was going to sling around sarcasm laced with humour.

Now mere puddles rested under him, he spun on his heels and slid away from the reduced trickle of blades. To fulfill what he aimed for, he had to have the angle for the trajectory correct. There was no telling where the finish line stood given the twists and turns of the place continuously expanding. The issue laid with his own stamina being the end line. If he couldn’t stand, it was a loss. 

And Genesis did not know loss.

**“Deceiving an opponent is dishonourable…”** The raven-haired male grumbled, breaking into a disgruntled murmur that had the auburn teen roll his eyes. **“You’re saying this is the only way to defeat it, because that beast is me?”**

Before the third tile began to rise, the boy whirled to face the back and rested crimson gloved hands on the middle of one, raising his legs above his and repeated the process until he reached that designated block, where his thick heeled boots managed to meet the blades that he predicted would rain down and poured all his force into kicking it ahead before he would succumb to slipping by the slipperiness caused by the soaked tile. 

“Bin—” his chime cracked into a shout as his body refused to disobey gravity, “GO!”

As the blade flew ahead, he balanced himself, raising up another Wall to keep the blades from reaching him as he scrambled to his feet, giving himself time to breathe the air his body craved for. He managed to kick ahead a steel lance and a small broadsword reminiscent to Rapier, and both, to his fortune, pierced the figure dashing into the dark chasm of what he couldn’t decipher with mere sight. 

The whirling of punctured wheels screeched through the hall. When the racer’s automobile made a series of spinning round and round, he promptly jumped off. Darting like a bullet on reserved energy, the darkness shrouded the grin on Genesis’ face like a cruel phantom, or a demon from the outskirts of the hellish yard, his pale eyes gleaming so bright, it was the only feature amidst the shadows on his face.

The racer’s face resembled a look of shock for the second Genesis was able to properly see it—and to his morbid humour, it resembled himself. Who stood in the air, about to land on his feet was none other than himself, with former auburn hair greying in an ugly and unsuited hue, cracks upon his smooth face so pale, the being in front resembled a zombie.

Oh, a zombie who had a thin, long jet-black wing.

_“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment..”_ both spoke to one another, as Genesis kept his focus on extending his arms to the decaying fellow, _“to find the end of the journey.”_

His gloved hands brushed along the cheeks of the male that now slightly levitated, eyes wide in fear.. of defeat? Bearing his teeth, Genesis kept a level smile, running his hands through stiff grey-auburn bangs.

_“In my own salvation..”_ this time Genesis quoted alone in a sharp breath, finally giving his body the time it required to relax, hands tightening around the fallen angel’s face, _“and your eternal slumber.”_

In a motion of final expansion of his power, he slammed the fellow through the wall. As soon as the fallen one’s figure shook on impact, his body creating a dent upon the place he met the wall, Genesis pointed Rapier at the base of his neck, breathing a little too heavy for his own liking.

For what was considered such a frightening test, this was rather simple. Nike smiled down upon him. 

_While he was not the hero of dawn, healer of worlds, he was beloved by the Goddess._

It was strange to say. It was as if he himself could feel when his best friends succeeded in their intended tasks. There was a breath of air he sucked that was better than any other, despite the lack of change in the atmosphere. 

Back into the campground they were, Sephiroth and the infantry unit that were supposedly “his”. Whether they were his or not, this was a course to teach him how to care for the troops that he will be dispatched with, expected to lead and protect. He was their shining light to victory, and that he had to guarantee however way he could. 

“Esai,” he called out to one of the individuals standing in front of him, donning the standard uniform he used to wear, and a metallic helmet over his head, concealing his eyes and a good half of his blond locks, “could you offer me a status report?”

The soldier turned to him, giving a silent nod. 

“Sir, over the passage of these minutes, we have lost about 25 of our newly promoted units. The many of us who survived are being examined by the medical staff in the infirmary tent.” The lad pointed to a larger tent just ahead of Sephiroth. It stood about two meters away from his own tent they pitched, and more beside the surviving infantry. “Once you joined the battle, the loss began to reduce by 80%. We could’ve lost 120 soldiers more to this battle before we retreated if you did not step in.”

“Is that true?” Sephiroth raised a brow at that. Surely, these Wutain forces couldn’t be that strong… Mr. Tuesti trained each cadet well enough to hold firearms even if one of their arms were bleeding by countless scratches. How would they have lost so much without him?

“It is not in us to lie, Sir.” The stiff formality of Esai was as bothersome as it was forgiveable. He was but a mere projection. The real Esai and cadets were not involved in this in any which way, thus lowering the chances of bearing the cross of loss upon him.

It was a means to show Sephiroth the possibilities of what he’ll face within a week. He’d have to debrief this to Genesis and Angeal so that they too could attain an image of what is expected of them. If the three were going into war, it was imperative that they knew. 

“Escort me to the medical ward, please.” The first line of duty may have concluded, the second and possible third has yet to come. His friends’ success was another task upon his shoulders, quite possibly the heftiest duty he had to fulfill. At least, it wasn’t a solitary effort.

_“Don’t think of attacking, just think of a song and sway to it!”_

The test that Angeal was put into required action beyond his scope: deceit. He could sympathize with the kind fellow’s trouble with going against his moral code just for a battle. He couldn’t recall the time he realized that there was no honour in battle, just victory. It didn’t matter how it was sought, that’s all that was necessary.

As victory meant survival. 

He kept his communicator on a low when he stood to join the frontlines to keep from turning around and throwing all his concern where he couldn’t be. So, in this moment of basking in the retreat of the Wutain forces, he flicked it back on, hearing strange splashing noises as if someone was running in either the rain or waves of water. The other had the wind sliced violently, as if it was a flurry of swinging of a massive blade.

He quickly figured what the two were doing, recalling the format that was explained to them by Deusericus. Judging by the way Genesis did not make a complaint of sorts, and how he was forcing Angeal to stop thinking, it told enough of the possible trouble the raven-teen was facing. Perhaps, the opponent was cleverer than they all assumed. 

Or Angeal forgot that mercy had no place in this trial.

“That is one way to set the ground. Angeal, have you ever heard of fighting without thinking of your next move?” He made an attempt to elaborate on a phrase the lad might not understand due to lack of experience. Sephiroth had never danced before, so it quickly registered to him that he would put too much thought into making sure his body coordinated well to the groove.

In short, he’d overthink. 

When there was no response from Angeal, Sephiroth considered initiating ‘small talk’ with Genesis to assist in distracting the lad from the heavy concentration he was under. However, two conditions ceased such action.

First, Genesis was in constant movement, rendering it difficult to focus on speaking and himself losing his focus that he required every second, and the other—

“Sir, we’re running short on Cure Materia!” 

“Sir Sephiroth, we have no chances of recovering these cadets!”

“If we were to heal them, we would exhaust all resources that are needed for later.”

His services were required. 

No wonder Esai gave glance with furrowed brows when he asked to be brought to the Medical tent. As soon as he stepped in, there were countless medics stringing their concerns before he could think of breathing in the little space. It was suddenly a game of choosing whose life was more important, and whose last rites were due.

Sephiroth truly disdained that game… it was difficult to face the dying soldier and inform him that his life was used to serve the public good but wasn’t worthy of continuing said service. While there were warriors who were read to accept death the moment they enlisted, there were many who grew fond of the fellows he stood beside, wishing nothing but to protect them and return home with them. 

To inform them that it was not going to happen.. was not an easy pill to swallow. Not that any were simple.

Heaving a sigh, he got to work.

**\--**

No opponent could cause their mighty weapons to falter, no obstacle to stand in their way as they marched, jumped through trap to trap, hurdle to another. Rhapsodos was assigned to a speed test to measure up his superior speed, Hewley to a test of strength due to his power, and Sephiroth into one that encompassed both for he was chosen to be the one to lead the entire fleet that would accompany them after their tests were accounted for. 

Each of them passed with flying colours. Hewley managing to overpower his opponent by trickery rather than brute force, Rhapsodos through forcing his way to defeat the racer, and Sephiroth by being able to make amends for the soldiers who had been wounded in action, standing up for them and sending them to the medical bay. 

They had to abandon what they were best at, compromise and make it through the terrain they were in, and the three, despite separation, performed perfectly. 

That successful operation that should’ve been celebrated, should’ve been glorified were pouring a bad feeling in the gut of the Student Council President. The fact that their performances were coming to a conclusion and no positive move had been taken by his assigned team had him riddled with clusters of nerves. Something wasn’t right. Where was that miscalculation?

How the hell didn’t they manage to subdue Doctor Hojo? That was their primary target, and Rufus made sure there was nothing that the quack could say that would rid of his presence to this room, to watch their demonstration with the President, and yet.

Yet, he was nowhere to be found, and the two he assigned for the task…

“Father, if you could excuse me for a quick moment.” There was no room for panicking, not when there was a possibility of another plan to overlap what did not work. Oh no no.. Rufus was not the kind who stuck to one plan and ended it with that. If the two people he commissioned had backed out on the last whim, he had—

“Leaving so soon..~ what’s the matter, little Rufus?” that shrill croon that drowned in malice and ill-will beckoned the young boy to stay in his place, standing abrupt and off the chair he was seated on. Casting a glare up, his eyes met the sinewy doctor, standing prim and with a long grin on his thin face. Rufus could never understand how his damned father kept such a creep in the place. One glance told enough of how he was nothing but bad news.

“Doctor Hojo, you’re late.” How he managed to maintain a steady, level tone was beyond him. If anything, he was afraid of that deranged man for how much power he had over the ShinRa Academy. More than his father, this man’s word overridden all. A true force to be reckoned with. For him to be standing here, calm and inquisitive spoke enough of his countermeasure against the Student Council’s plans. 

They were in a rut. 

“Yes~ and perchance, you know why.” 

Well, goodbye plan A.

“It seems that someone disturbed my precious little sons.” This caught even his father to glance up and away from the cameras that displayed the prized soldier commanders. “Apparently, they were tasked to lop off a head of a very important person..~”

“Doctor Hojo, they were simply—” Lazard jumped in defense, dismissed as soon as he stood up by their father. 

“Lord Shinra, it seems that your sons were misbehaving~ Trying to send my children to kill you.”

Rufus bit back every sensation that tensed inside of him at the feeling of his father’s deep glare, and the two warriors he communicated with enter into the scene with their weapons pointed. The two ‘sons’ had hair that was the opposite of one another; one silver and grey almost glistening like Sephiroth, the other black as the deepest night. The sable-haired boy held a gun pointed at the three, and the taller, muscular male had a katana pointed. 

The two were dressed head to toe in the same uniform as the cadets who enlisted—turtlenecks with their multiple belts for their weapon harness, obsidian pauldrons, and baggy black pants under combat boots. Their eyes that were once radiant and bright were now dull and listless, as if Doctor Hojo had sucked their souls out of their bodies in an attempt to reprogram them. 

That was freaking creepy. 

“Sephiroth, Rhapsodos, Hewley! To me, now!”

Sparing no second, Rufus tapped into his communicator and barked his order a second before the black-haired male could load a bullet in his side. That bullet would’ve made a perfect shot at his abdomen had there not been a massive blade shield him. Multiple bangs of bullets sounded within the room that did not make a single mark, disintegrating halfway through their trajectory. 

Finally, the blade of the pale-haired male did not travel far in its slash for the blade was intercepted with a vicious blade that swept the air like it was a mere branch in a forest. 

The three commanders stood before Rufus, Lazard and President Shinra. Hewley thrusting the Buster Sword as a shield to protect Rufus due to the massive width and weight of the blade, Rhapsodos to the side burning each bullet with a string of flames of his, and finally, to the center and a step ahead was Sephiroth, intercepting the teen’s twin blades.

Had their lives not been at stake in this very moment, Rufus would’ve smiled in admiration. It would make an impressive picture to see the three soldier elites protecting their superiors as they vowed to do. 

“Genesis, Angeal! Handle the gunslinger, I’ll take this one on.” Sephiroth ordered, voice so firm it alone could cut through steel. Rufus flicked his gaze at the two friends who wordlessly complied: Hewley with a nod, and Rhapsodos who sneered. 

The three stood tall despite their growing fatigue, their exhaustion within their trials. It was difficult to miss how Sephiroth’s clothes and hair were lined with dust and debris from the battlefield, how Rhapsodos was still soaked to the bone despite the flames, and Hewley who was shuddering, notably wobbling in his posture as he left the heavy Buster Sword in front of him like a pillar. 

Their demonstration was stretched too long, their expertise almost drained out of them due to their inexperience. While Sephiroth had a lick of familiarity around battle, he was sensibly removed from that lifestyle. To say his blade and skill sullied was not an incorrect statement. It was only an acceptable fact.

What threw the three off was when the two brothers, who were prepared to ruthlessly draw blood out of Rufus, recoiled at the sight of Sephiroth glaring at them. The Student Council President would understand if it was out of fear of the silver male, that he would admit he could reciprocate, but it wasn’t that sort of fear.

It was more of a.. a glance that spoke of betrayal. It was pain in their eyes that blinked with life at the sight of him. Even Hewley and Rhapsodos were thrown off by the full to the brim emotion as their eyes registered their friend.

“Brother, even you?”

Wait… _what?_

Finally, letting his eyes travel to Sephiroth, he found that he too, had a brow raised at the calling of ‘brother’. Was he not aware of their existence?

Sephiroth’s strike pushed the larger boy back, green eyes narrowing into near slits. 

“Who are you calling brother?” he bellowed in a tone so dangerously low, it poured shivers down the Student Council President’s spine.

“Sephiroth’s brothers..?” Hewley echoed. Rhapsodos’ slumping figure straightened, teeth gritting as he stretched his hand to hurl another wave of flame at the two soldiers who now opposed Rufus. The raven-haired teen raised his hand to stop his friend from doing more, while Sephiroth allowed the action, lifting his chin in a slight nod. 

The two soldiers jumped away to avoid the attack, eyes still wide as they were startled. As if Sephiroth and his friends should not be attacking them at all. Rufus could only conclude that they were under a manipulation by the shrewd Doctor.

_“You dolts better quit the innocent act!”_ Rhapsodos shouted, unlike Sephiroth whose fury was as silent as a fearsome panther ready to pounce, the auburn boy was as passionate as his pyres, flaring up and compelling. For him to be the only one of the three who was certain that their statement was nothing but hubris.. it was quite interesting. 

How much did the lad hide under the rug? Did he know how suspicious he appeared?

“Genesis, wait! We should let them explain themselves.” Hewley advised, lowering the Buster Junior in such a manner, he was displaying his lack of intention to fight. Those dark blue eyes softening with understanding, or the need thereof. The white-haired male who met Sephiroth’s Masamune glared at them, readying his blade with nothing but murder in his eyes, but the thinner, gun-wielding male lowered his weapon, raising a hand in defense.

“You have no right to speak to us in such a manner.” The white-haired one snarled, glaring at Rhapsodos who matched his fury, both of them appearing more related than he and Sephiroth who, with his steeled gaze, gave them the cold shoulder.

“I speak to a puppet of that quack however way I want to.” The auburn male took a step forward in front of Sephiroth who, for a second, shuddered when the scarlet duster was in his sight, ahead rather than back where he could be guarded. Rufus noticed how the silver-haired male ceased paying the two soldiers his attention and zeroed in on Rhapsodos, his right arm raising almost in a manner to draw him back before it lowered, favouring to tighten his grasp on his beautiful sword. 

How protective he was of his friends was answered here: he wanted to ensure absolutely no harm come their way. 

“Master Weiss, they are merely confused, let us clear their confusion.” The sable-haired male reasoned, completely reminiscent to Hewley’s need to communicate before they drew blood out of each other. Unlike Hewley who was merely ignored by the two, the white-haired one—Weiss, shifted his glare to him, causing the young lad to flinch. 

Rufus almost pitied the boy. 

“Nero, don’t be a fool!” then turned his attention back to Rhapsodos, a sneer appearing on his face. If they thought his glare was frightening, that smirk was. “You speak boldly for a cripple. I wonder if you would still be able to speak so boldly after I am done with you.”

To the two friends’ utter distress, he took none of it, smiling himself. 

“Want to come and see, big guy?”

“Genesis.” Sephiroth only said, and it was enough for the boy to cease, returning the sneer.

“Alright, if Sephiroth says I can’t, then I have no choice.”

“Coward, aren’t you?” Weiss commented, ever so venomously. 

“Says the one who submits to that sorry excuse of a human being.” In the moment the boy finished his statement, Sephiroth stood before him. The boy sighed, “Seph, it’s alright. I wasn’t going to fight him..”

“He was going to strike you.”

And no lie that was, Weiss only stepped back when his “brother” once again remerged to the picture. The younger brother—Nero, offered a small nod.

Forgive us, my dear brother. We were tasked to protect the Headmaster, and to ‘give the Student Council President our answer to his proposal’. We wish not to harm you or your friends.”

“Why do you call me.. brother?”

At this, Weiss’ sneer sifted away, a deep frown taking its place.

“You don’t know?”

“Come along my sons, that could be a ‘talk’ for later, how about that?” Rufus wished he could forget Doctor Hojo’s presence the way the three had, judging by their sudden glower landing onto him. “Headmaster, I desired to give you a warning on your both your son’s disloyalty to you, nothing more~”

Without another word but a nod, the two soldiers exuent the premise with the Doctor, not responding to a single question that Sephiroth had in mind, that Hewley spoke out, that Rhapsodos clicked his tongue to. 

“I’ve always thought when you would try and pull a stunt like that, Rufus.” A gruff voice sounded through the silence formed. That dull and cruel tone belonging to.. Headmaster Shinra. 

Rufus mentally swore.

Well, now there’s father to deal with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for dropping by, hope you have a lovely day~ Twitter and Tumblr are both @AmareinMortis if you want to contact.


	28. A girl named Aeris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While I thought Wutai was going to the first thing addressed, it seemed a flashback/dream wanted to take its place.
> 
> I would think this one is a bit heavy. Multiple perspectives in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back on "the author's officially lost it".  
> \- Okay, but this is quite funny, I said a while back that I'll go on break, but those days I was whipping out chapters left and right, just not posting any.  
> \- because of the strange developments in this story, I wouldn't say I'm actually back.. I wanted to post this one two weeks ago.  
> \- I'm thinking of doing more drawings for this and posting them onto Tumblr. Also, I'm thinking of writing a Sephesis story where rich boy Gen is gifted a Seph as his bodyguard. It's a slow build but very soft and happy story. What do you think?
> 
> -without further ado, I'll leave you with this.

**\--**

_He was in a large silver domain. Pillars protruded over what appeared to be a spring of amethyst and the bright green of peridot. How he got here, where he was, he was not sure. There was not a single place in the small backwater town of Nibelheim that resembled this.. this Temple like place. Holy energy surrounded the altar that was far from where he stood, a level lower and glimmering in deep silvers as if it was the Silver Millennium itself. Before he could think for himself, his body descended the stairway that lowered in a half-circle, translucent planks beneath his feet that did not appear neither safe nor dangerous to cross._

_With nothing but purpose he could not understand, he travelled lower until he was halfway to the Altar where a young woman sat. The view was not clear for he was a little too low to catch a clear glimpse of her under the pale lights that shone down upon her like the moon on a dark night. Two people stood by him as he measured the distance between the cylindrical pillar and where he stood, two of whom he positively had no idea about._

_One of the two wore a uniform. Short blond hair with a stubble to age his figure, the fella had brown googles placed on his forehead as if he was a jet pilot or something. Blue denim with a fluffy collar, underneath were overalls of black, brown gloves adorned his arms, pushing the jacket’s sleeves up to his biceps, finally ending it with brown boots that matched the gloves._

_The other was cloaked in a bloody crimson cloak, matching the wrappings around his forehead and eyes that pierced through his soul with a glance. Black jagged hair cascaded down asymmetrically, unruly to its nature but not as spiked as Cloud’s own that required a good dose of hair gel, and deathly pale skin as if he was the dead itself. This lad was tall, standing with a frown that seemed stuck onto his face, black leather dressing under his flaming cape, and a golden claw that extended up to his left elbow, immediately catching the boy off-guard._

_He wasn’t able to address the gold piece for his mind decided to blank out, pushing his conscience aside as he did his comrades when he waved a hand at them to not follow him as he proceeds to head over to the woman on the other side._

_As if on a mission, the boy hopped from pillar to pillar, each rising higher but causing no trouble to the capable boy in the SOLDIER uniform that he had seen his three upperclassmen and fellow mates wear. It was strange how it appeared like a scenario out of a game or a movie, his body refused to indulge his questions as he reached the Altar, just steps away from the woman who knelt in prayer._

_Who was she praying for, and what time it was… why couldn’t he tell? Moreover, who was she? Why as soon as his eyes caught on her soft features, that smile that graced her face in a tranquil manner strike so familiar? Did he know her from somewhere?_

_Chestnut brown hair curled beside her cheeks, a couple of strands resting down her shoulders while the rest winded back in a long braid that reached her waist, held by a long pink ribbon. Fair, creamy skin that had a dust of rose matched the pale dress she wore under a small red jacket just below her breasts. Her eyes were closed as her hands were intertwined in prayer._

_While Cloud was admiring her beauty, his form did something else that immediately had him flinch._

_Cloud was raising a massive blade over her head, firmly shaking as if the weight was too great for him to carry. A blade that was an exact replica of Angeal’s Buster Sword. How did the heirloom of the Hewley family reach his hands? Did that mean Angeal…_

_Before he could bisect the praying woman in two, he heard deep voices growling at him, mocking him for attempting an action that he must not do. Immediately after, the boy recoiled back, shaking his head as he stepped back, almost touching a stair that would’ve caused him to drop down and quite possibly fall into the stream._

_Finally, he spoke._

_“Ugh, what are you trying to make me do…?”_

_The child wondered who he was speaking to—himself? Someone who was controlling him like a helpless marionette? No… if Cloud could hear himself, he would surely have said to shut up for he was causing a hindrance by asking who his party mates were, who this beautiful young girl was and who she meant to him._

_Her eyes opened as she lifted her face, that smile unmoved. Eyes as green and pure as the Lifestream met his, and Cloud felt his body freeze, staring at her not out of love, not out of affection. Instead, it was out of a strange petrification as if he begged to speak to her, to remove her from her position, but couldn’t._

_Just then, a figure made its path down like a guardian angel purging the evil. The woman did not move from her position, glancing at Cloud with a knowledge he couldn’t comprehend. He couldn’t bear look up even if he wanted to. There was something in her eyes that made him stay, even if his heart sank into the lowest pinnacle, even if his guts churned awfully, feeling so nauseous he could simply faint._

_What was happening?_

_Just when he caught his breath, it was too late. A thin but powerful katana made its way through her tiny chest, and her head bowed, unblinking. Her ribbon slipped off her hair, along with a small orb of green that bounced onto each pillar before finally sinking as if it too, lost life. The one who pierced through her had not a single expression, not a sound uttered as he sunk the bloodless blade through her and removed it without a care for the world._

_Before the girl could touch the ground, she was cradled in Cloud’s arms, who shook her lightly, screaming her name._

_“…Aeris!”_

_Aeris…?_

_As if the two shared thoughts, he exclaimed:_

_“This can’t be real!”_

_The male who stood behind them, who punctured her body with the resolute blade spread his arms in the air and to the sides, glancing up with a strangely gleeful expression. Silver hair cascaded down in a veil of moonlight, contrasting the black leather he wore all around him._

_That person… was Sephiroth!_

Sephiroth?

_“Do not worry, soon that girl will become part of the Planet’s energy.” He comforted (?). “All that is left is to go North. The “Promised Land” waits for me over the snowy fields.”_

_It did not sound at all like the stiff yet caring Sephiroth he knew for all these months, this near year. Who was he?_

_“There, I will become a new being by uniting with the planet, as will this girl...”_

_“….Shut up.”_

_Cloud cut him off, turning his face to glare at the bastard. This.. this maniac couldn’t be their silver friend, not their Sephiroth who wouldn’t dare harm anyone without a reason, and wouldn’t drone on about a new world where he was the One._

_“The cycle of nature and your stupid plan don’t mean a thing.” He snarled bitterly, repressing the trembles that tore through him. The girl was growing cold in his arms, so lifeless and even so, she was smiling so tenderly! How could she be a being who deserved death? “Aeris is gone.”_

_“Aeris will no longer talk, no longer laugh, cry..” Cloud may have not known who she was, but these feelings that surged through him, as if he was stabbed by the Masamune itself.. oh it hurt. This young girl—Aeris must’ve been too close to his heart for him to be so shaken up by it._

_“Or get angry..” his anger dissipated into sorrow as he faced away from the silver haired male and lowered his head, holding her body closer to him. Biting his lip, he continued, “what about us…. What are WE supposed to do!?”_

_With shaking hands, he lowered her gently. “What about my pain..? My fingers are tingling, my mouth is dry, my eyes are burning!”_

_And truly it was, eyes brimming with tears hotter than Firaga itself threatened to spill down his cheeks, his throat felt like sandpaper was scratched upon it for days and nights, choking and gasping for breath. Perhaps, with the end of the girl’s life, Sephiroth had taken more from him than he assumed._

_Disappointed, or mocking, Sephiroth lowered his arms, seething._

_“What are you saying? Are you telling me you have feelings too?”_

_Anger pumping anew through his veins, he stood up and faced the silver male, waving his arm to the side. “Of course! Who do you think I am!?”_

_To that, Sephiroth_ laughed. _It was hollow and empty, like a resigned vessel_.

_“Ha.. ha.. ha.. stop acting as if you were sad. There’s no need to act as though you’re angry either.”_

_To the boy’s utter surprise, Sephiroth began to slowly float into the air, glancing down at him with a smile, “after all, Cloud, you are…”_

_Cloud urged himself to try and attack the silver male who slain the young Aeris, do something in retaliation to what he was presented. Unfortunately, before he could set anything in motion, he grew farther and farther away, twirling as he flew out of eyeshot._

_His ears caught on an almost missed whisper:_

A puppet.

**\--**

The blond boy woke in cold sweat. His eyes shot open as he was roused out of the slumber he tried to peacefully enter. The first sight his eyes caught on were pale cerulean eyes that glanced down at him, lips parted slightly and auburn hair framing his rosy features. What was Genesis doing here? How long was he—sitting here, resting Cloud’s head on his lap?

He glanced to and fro, completely lost. 

Long thin fingers were caught on his unruly spikes that needed another dose of gel, brushing the sweating bangs from his face. He wanted to issue a warning about what appeared to be a revelation of the future, all scenes replaying in his head in a swirl of messed up sequences.

Aeris—Buster Sword——Sephiroth!

**Sephiroth!**

But his throat, just like that dream, was parched dry. He couldn’t find his voice even if he wanted to release it in a multitude of statements. Meeting the boy’s eyes another time, he was surprised to see he hadn’t addressed the oddity.

Was he waiting?

Those cerulean lingered upon his sapphire blue as if he was so important, valid to his life even though he had two of the best people in the world, had a career in two areas of his passion, was so utterly perfect on his own with that radiance that had angels envy. Cloud felt his eyes begin to heat up. These feelings that were welling up inside of him at the privilege to see the love of his life.. was that he was feeling when the dream Cloud met Aeris’ gaze?

It’s no wonder he couldn’t find it in him to speak. 

Copper eyelashes lowered as he blinked, a tiny smile reaching a corner. 

“Awww..” he began to coo, fingers caressing the top of his protruding spikes, “did you have a bad dream?”

Cloud blinked a couple of times, reeling himself in, reaching up to take Genesis’ hand in his own. He began to wish that what he had seen was merely a bad dream. How real it felt.. diminished all hope in him. 

“Gen, I..” Oh look at him.. bawling at him like a baby.

Genesis, his pretty lover was dressed in a high-neck black sweater that hung loosely over fit, lithe frame. Despite his seemingly aristocratic upbringing, he seemed to delve into the most adorable attire when needed most. That in itself was a little hug from him.

However, the brace on his right shoulder was still present, apparently camouflaged by the dark of his clothing, horrifying Cloud to no end. What happened there that Genesis would never show? Was it always there and he simply didn’t pay enough attention? No.. it wasn’t slung around him until these couple of weeks ago.

Surely, Angeal would’ve been more cautious about him had it been long since.

Cloud broke into a sob, unable to meet the boy’s level yet affectionate gaze. Turning, his body curled closer, drawing himself closer into a little ball, drawing his hand away from the older male, clenching so tight around his own he could break fingers. 

“Cloud.. baby, what’s wrong?” Why did it feel like he was saying goodbye? “Why are you crying?”

Cloud couldn’t answer. Genesis’ hands shifted to rub the tears away with a thumb, hushing him softly.

“It’s alright. You needn’t to answer. Just let it flow out.”

How was it that this boy imbued him with life by simply being by his side? Genesis felt like a blessing that was granted to him by the Goddess that he professes unending love to. Was he aware of how important he was to him?

When the pain subsided a little, he addressed the auburn teen who was humming a small tune. A glass of water was brought to his lips and with a thirst, he drank it all, lifting his head off his lap for that moment.

“I’m scared, Genesis.” 

“Scared of what?” his voice was a soft murmur, the tone he used when they were close to intimacy. “Of us going into war?”

_Of us breaking apart._ He almost answered, ceasing the second before he uttered such. Genesis, while loving, was going to laugh it off as a mere shy doubt in the blond boy. Besides, he brought up another point that had his heart sink.

“Going into war?”

“Yeah, the three of us have to lead a handful of cadets and battle against Wutai. They’ve started a counterattack not too long ago.”

_Wait.. what?_

“And you’re going?”

Genesis’ brows furrowed, the small smile growing wry.

“ _My friend, the fates are cruel_.” He recited a line of LOVELESS, closing his eyes. “I can’t leave Angeal nor Sephiroth. If they are willing to go, then I am.”

_“There are no dreams, no honour remains..”_ Cloud continued, fresh tears resurfacing at the thought being unable to see his love for another long time, “but your arm…”

_“The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess.”_ Azure eyes opened as cerise lips pressed a kiss onto the younger boy’s forehead, tender and full. “It’s fine, just a little strained.”

“A little strain would’ve gone in a week..” and he wouldn’t be embarrassed to show if it was a small wound, no? In Cloud’s books, no injury was shameful to incur. It was a part of human life to get hurt sometimes. “Surely, they wouldn’t want you to push yourself too far.”

Genesis rolled his eyes.

“What have I been doing all this time? Domesticating myself to be a bride?”

Cloud’s cheeks flushed at the thought of Genesis wearing such a dress. He was so unfairly beautiful as it was, in a dress, it’d accentuate all his best features and more. He earnt a tap to the head.

“Bad imagination?”

“No, just my Chocobo’s too distracted.” Finally, Genesis eyed the brace on his shoulder. “This happens when I train too much, it’s alright. Rapier can be a bit heavy at times.”

By the way his tone humbled a notch, it must’ve been difficult for him to admit such a truth. 

Swallowing a lump in his throat, he decided to address the elephant in his mind. If Genesis was going with _Sephiroth,_ it was imperative that he knew what he witnessed in the time he was asleep.

“Genesis,” he started, earning a glance from bright blue, “the dream..”

“You don’t have to…” the auburn boy courteously interrupted, but Cloud shook his head. He had to know, there was no way out of it, not if Sephiroth was going to—very possibly hurt him in the future that was too close.

“Sephiroth was in it.”

Deeply saturated blue eyes found the older male gnawing on his lip as if it would keep him from commenting. A gesture to continue. Grateful, he smiled, reaching for the boy’s hands.

“But… he was not good.”

A brow raise, still no words.

“We were in a temple of sorts. I was going to this woman.. a woman with brown hair and green eyes.” He retraced his steps in his head, “and for some reason, I almost killed her.”

The older male gave a small nod to proceed.

“I ended up questioning what someone was making me do.. and when I came to my senses, Sephiroth killed her.” Giving the boy’s hands a little squeeze, he added, “that woman was not someone bad, I was crying when Sephiroth hurt her. She was smiling, and I felt so ashamed, it was as if I did it myself.”

“Who was this woman?” was all he could ask, eyes completely uncertain and yet, searching.

“Her name was Aeris, according to the me in the dream. I think she was someone close to me—I don’t know her, but I felt it..” As if dodging a misassumption, he quickly added, before drawing those pale, rosy fingers to his lips. “Dream me felt what I feel for you.”

Genesis merely blinked, hands passive and enveloped in Cloud’s.

“When he killed her, I thought of you. What if he.. snaps and then kills you?”

The way those baby blue eyes remained in contact with his, so concentrated and almost contemplative, it poured shivers down Cloud’s spine. It wasn’t envy, but it something deeper that he couldn’t understand. Perhaps, he was growing upset that the blond was misjudging his best friend.

“Aeris is her name?” he finally spoke, and it terrified Cloud of how it wasn’t truly addressed to him, but more of a self-affirmation. No doubt Genesis believed the dream had something key within it that was beyond the shock value. “All I can tell you is.. Sephiroth won’t ever harm me.”

Cloud’s eyes widened at how certain he sounded. 

“How do you know that…?”

Cerulean eyes narrowed into slits as he gnashed his teeth.

“Because he had once, and even today, it’s what makes him _cry_.”

**\--**

To say he was falling into a chasm was accurate to its nature. 

Since the night before, he wasn’t able to catch a wink of sleep. His thoughts were in a spiralling race, constantly remembering what those two strangers informed him, what Doctor Hojo had proclaimed right in front of him in the training room after their demonstration. First of all, there was that disappointment of yet another failure of a mission—Who knew what was happening to Rufus and Lazard after they left the large room. Sephiroth wouldn’t doubt that they were stripped of their authority, degraded infront of the staff and underplayed as merely his sons and nothing more. 

Second of all, the revelation that had a family. Surely, he would’ve met them at an earlier age… was it hidden from him due to moving with Vincent? Surely, that agent did not mean harm upon him by having him be raised away from bloodshed and the labs.. why didn’t he save the two along with him if they were present?

Doctor Hojo had to be making a fool out of him, nothing more to it. They were being deceived by the “old quack” for they hadn’t a lick of who he was. Until these hours before, he had never seen them. They couldn’t possibly be his family. 

Third of all.. why did it appear as if Genesis knew more about him than he knew himself? What was it that was hidden by the auburn teen that he couldn’t elicit even during their demonstration? Surely, he didn’t know these two who went by the names “Weiss” and “Nero” if he had no idea about Sephiroth until their first meeting. He accused the two boys of being liars a little too confidently for his liking. Why was it he that was so certain that these two boys were not who they said they were?

Finding no answer to satisfy his infinite queries, he rested himself on the cushioned floor. His friend’s apparent mistrust in him gnawed in his internals, bothering him to no end, relentlessly. He thought of texting him once more, giving him a ring to meet in his quarters to discuss this bothersome situation they were thrusted within. Fishing his pocket for his cellular device, he flipped the silver piece to glance at the screen, coming to a halt at a thought.

Before the demonstration, Genesis refused to answer any of his calls, any of his texts.. why would he now? When Doctor Hojo snickered at him in the training room, the auburn boy blocked off all possibilities to converse when he appeared to zone out. He didn’t phase out, didn’t struggle his way back to his dormitory, no, he simply stood there, glancing at the walls as if they were going to pound them into a pancake. 

When Angeal and Sephiroth spoke with each other, he didn’t catch a word they said. Sure, he was as exhausted as they were, but it wasn’t the airheadedness of an eager puppy out of a mission, it wasn’t the mother who left the stove running. No, it was as if he was seeing something that they weren’t the whole duration, and perhaps he was.

Sephiroth’s strange dreams seemed to coincide with theirs. He recalled asking Genesis why he specifically tailored a scarlet duster for himself, and black for him. His answer was, “I saw that it looked cool on us, but Angeal didn’t have one so I went with a random colour.”

And when the silver teen came to the realization that he was not anchored to their world, Genesis suddenly awoke, checking his PHS before exclaiming something about checking on a “Cloudy-boi”, that meaning Strife. Did he promise company with Strife that they were not privy to? What more did he hide from them?

Why was that blond boy their wedge in the middle of the road? It was becoming a disdaining association to the cute blond boy who, according to Angeal, made Genesis very happy. Moreover, was Genesis elated only to _use_ said child? At first, he thought the blond was taking what wasn’t his, but now.. it was starting to seem more like he was used for his naïve love. Genesis was a careful planner, a meticulous fella who had use for just about everyone.

Was that it?

Sephiroth shook his head. It was a mere coincidence. Genesis may be a sly, clever vixen, he was not, however, a good liar. His eyes always spoke the truth, and he laid that bare for Sephiroth to see, never shied to show the silver teen. That was why they were still friends. That was why Angeal chose to trust him, that earnest boy who was never betrayed by his older friend.

Whatever was under the covers.. the auburn boy had a reason to keep to himself. The silver teen only wished he could provide assistance. That was why it was more painful to bear, required more reason to justify the gaps in their knowledge. 

He only hoped it wasn’t going to tear them apart. 

**\--**

He distracted himself by reading what his mother had sent from the little farm town of Banora. 

He had dishonoured the Student Council, let them down and almost got his best friends hurt, again. It was an absolute disgrace what happened during the demonstration. They couldn’t distract the staff well enough to make Rufus’ plan work. It was fool-proof, he had the support of those two students had Doctors Hollander and Hojo not step in the way of it. Despite their words, he knew Doctor Hollander was also involved in this.

He was a good pawn when needed, and Doctor Hojo had power over all of them. 

Finding he was starting to sound like a pessimistic auburn friend, he shook off the sinking feeling of failure and turned to the contents his mother wrote for him. How joyful she oft was when she sent these little messages that were now as easy as a bunch of clicks. Angeal couldn’t criticize her gentle ways, no one in Banora save for the rich Rhapsodos family could afford it, and they were not as generous as one could hope. 

She asked of his well-being, of Genesis and their friends that he often spoke about. His eating habits, his training, how the plants were—adding that the ones at their humble abode missed him dearly, reaching for belongings that had a remote resemblance to him. 

He began writing his answer. Yes, they were fine, they were healthy and happy, enlisting to become part of the famous SOLDIER who protected the continent. They were honourable Commanders at this point, setting off to their first formal battle, thus he wouldn’t be able to send more letters or currency until he returned, or it was safe enough to deliver. He left out the detail that Genesis could barely use his right arm, having omitting the fact that who caused it..

He told her of Midgar’s seasonal changes, the plants in his room adjusting well despite the poor vegetation in the urban city. Many plants had broken his heart with death and decay, but there were many that were surviving, keeping him company when he couldn’t spend it on his friends or club members. 

He spoke of meeting her sometime after this expedition, wishing for her to see for herself how much he had grown. Photographs of his friends were not enough to grant that satisfaction. Even so, his mother showered him and his friends with care and good will, telling him they were promising hope of the future that was very close. 

Hearing her encouragement of hope welled his heart with warmth immeasurable. His Mamma believed in him, and that gave him hope of success in what was nothing but frightening. 

They will be fine, won’t they?

When the final note was sent to mail out to Banora, he headed over to Sephiroth’s dormitory, hoping he could get an idea of what he could expect on their next task. He was the only one who was on an actual battlefield and lived to tell the tale.

**\--**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ hope you have a lovely weekend. Twitter and Tumblr are both @AmareinMortis if you want to contact me.


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